


Fairy Godwitches

by TheFandomLesbian



Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [61]
Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Developing Relationship, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Erotica, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Porn With Plot, Smut, foxxay - Freeform, goodeday, raulson - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFandomLesbian/pseuds/TheFandomLesbian
Summary: Cordelia comes home from a business trip to find Misty babysitting her infant niece. Eager to be of service, she finds herself thrust into the unfamiliar territory of caring for a baby and quickly learns to care for Misty, as well.
Relationships: Misty Day/Cordelia Foxx | Cordelia Goode
Series: Spencer's Raulson One-Shots [61]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1214643
Comments: 15
Kudos: 74





	Fairy Godwitches

**Author's Note:**

> This is for five Foxxay prompts!  
> -Person A falls asleep on Person B's shoulder and Person B needs to get up but doesn't want to disturb Person A.  
> -"I see the way you look at me when you think I'm not looking."  
> -"You sure don't know how to keep your hands to yourself."  
> -"Did you do this to yourself?"  
> -"Can I have this dance?"
> 
> Also, prompts are officially closed! I'm going to finish up the ones I have left in my inbox, and then I'm going to start To Rule and Guide, the sequel to To Light and Guard. I'm also hoping to finish up Lady, You Don't Need to See at some point soon. 
> 
> If you read and enjoy this story, please leave a comment! It took me over a month to complete, and I'm quite proud of the work I've done with this, so please let me know if you enjoy it.

A business trip had taken Cordelia away from the coven for the past ten days, but as she unpacked her bags from the back of the Uber she had taken home and thanked the driver, the silhouette of Miss Robicheaux’s loomed over her, filling her with a certain peace. Life at the academy was chaos, but at least it was a familiar chaos. The presence of the mansion reassured her. Heading up the steps toward the front door of the house, she unlocked it and entered, drinking in a deep breath to smell the scents of her home. 

In the parlor, four of her witches were clustered, complete with blankets and pillows and many of their essential things. A quirk wormed its way between Cordelia’s brows. “Are you girls…  _ camping out _ down here?” 

Whatever had caused this should have warranted a phone call, she wanted to remind them, but three of them descended upon her like hungry vultures in a chorus of complaints, and she resisted the urge to hold up her suitcase like Captain America’s shield to deflect the grievances as they pelted her with them. “You’ve  _ got  _ to make her get rid of it!” Queenie insisted. 

“Or maybe just make her go back to the swamp until it’s gone,” Zoe amended. 

“Maybe we should go live in the swamp until it’s gone!” Madison added desperately. 

Cordelia blinked a few times, feeling quite like she had stepped into a hailstorm.  _ And to think moments ago this place looked like a relief.  _ She should have known better. She cleared her throat. “Okay, lots of feelings, no appropriate greeting…” They ogled at her like a bunch of owls, not one of them offering a welcome home. “Nan, do you have anything to add before I go see what fresh hell Misty has wrought upon us?” She meant it only jokingly, of course; of all of her witches, Cordelia was most eager to see Misty again. In fact, she was a little disappointed Misty hadn’t joined this congregation and their sad little hello. 

Nan lifted her eyes from the book she was reading. “Hm?” she asked, blinking a few times, as if to shake herself from her studies. “Oh, no. Hearing all of your thoughts all the time is so loud. I barely even notice the baby crying.”

Jaw slackening, Cordelia gaped at them. She waited for the punchline. It didn’t come. “Baby… deer?” They gazed back at her, paralyzed. “Baby bear. Baby alligator. Baby giraffe.”

Queenie shook her head. “I would take any of those things over what we have endured since you left.”

“I once took ten Adderall and then slept more peacefully than I have since she brought home that noisemaker.” Madison flopped onto the couch. “But we can’t really hear it down here. This is our last resort.” 

Cordelia was beginning to understand why Fiona spent her Supremacy as far away from the coven as humanly possible. But, because her sense of responsibility outweighed her sense of fear (and in part because curiosity killed the cat), she gathered up her things and proceeded up the stairs. She placed her bags outside of her bedroom, not opening the door yet, and headed down the hallway to Misty’s room. The door was pushed mostly closed, only a crack of light bleeding through. 

She pushed it open. The door creaked. Misty, hovering over a Pack ‘N Play, straightened up and whirled around. One rampant hand flapped in the air, shushing the noise Cordelia had already made, but it was too late. From the bassinet, a cry pierced the air. A whimper and a mumble bloomed into a full shriek in less than a minute. “Sh, sh, sh…” Misty reached into the bassinet and scooped out a tiny, furious baby, bright red in the face and thrashing angry little fists. As Misty bounced it and shushed it, it quieted down, the shriek settled back into a few discombobulated grunts. 

Exhaustion colored beneath Misty’s eyes. Her frazzled hair stood up like she’d clutched an electric fence. “Hey, Miss Cordelia.” She rocked the baby back and forth in the air until the final grunts fell back into silence. The fatigue on Misty’s face split into a grin. Her azure eyes sparkled. “Welcome home. I missed you.” 

In spite of the tension thickening in Cordelia’s intestines, something inside of her eased at the sight of Misty’s familiar smile. She approached her, extending an arm in greeting. “I missed you, too, Misty.” Misty gave her a one-armed hug, clutching the sleepy infant in the other hand. “What happened here?” Cordelia asked, arching an eyebrow at Misty. 

Misty raised her eyebrows in turn, whispering a series of hapless stammers. “Oh, I’m real sorry, she’s just going through a rough patch. It’s the fourth trimester for her, you know, that’s no fun for anybody.”

“Fourth trimester? When were the first three trimesters? I was gone ten days, not ten months.” 

Soft blue eyes flicked to hers. “Oh, I found her in a stroller in the park. All these other kids running around, but this one didn’t have a mommy or daddy to her name. Just her, her stroller, her diaper bag, and a whole bunch of formula. She was abandoned.” 

Cordelia’s mouth dropped. “You  _ stole _ —” As she raised her voice, the infant startled and whined. Cordelia’s voice hushed into a whisper. “You kidnapped a baby from the park—oh my  _ god, _ Misty, you’re—you’re a wanted criminal, you’re going to be—oh my god, we have to go to the police station—” Misty quivered from head to toe, trying to restrain her laughter. “Why are you laughing? You stole someone’s child, this isn’t—”

Misty shook her head. “I can’t believe you bought that.” 

Horror and relief and something completely unidentifiable twisted inside of Cordelia’s stomach. “I—what?” A flash of annoyance reared its head, but it settled again at Misty’s smile before Cordelia could focus any attention on it. “Where did it come from, really?”

Misty eased back over the bassinet and carefully laid the infant down butt-first and then onto her back. She stepped back, walking on the balls of her feet, and Cordelia followed her from the room, both of them careful not to bump the door so it wouldn’t creak. “Okay, first—she’s a  _ she _ , she’s a girl. Babies are people, you know.” Cordelia opened her mouth to demand  _ again _ where the baby had come from, but Misty continued, “That’s my niece, Antoinette. My little sister just needed somebody to watch her for awhile, being my family doesn’t know she exists yet.” 

“Why didn’t she just take the baby with her?”

“My family doesn’t exactly have a track record of responding well to its wayward daughters,” Misty said pointedly. Cordelia nodded in acknowledgment. She had no reason to think highly of Misty’s family at all. “Maude run off a few years ago, before everything went to shit. This is the first anybody’s heard of her since. She’s feeling things out before she throws a newborn into the mix.” Misty leaned against the wall and shoveled a hand through her disheveled hair. Darkness encircled both of her weary eyes. 

_ She looks like she hasn’t slept in days.  _ “How long has she been here?”

Bleary eyes blinked. “Er… She got here on Tuesday—what day is it?”

“It’s Saturday,” Cordelia said patiently. Misty started to count out the days on her fingers. “Four days—Misty, that’s four days. When is she leaving?” Misty shrugged. “Have you talked to your sister at all?”

“Nah. Cell service out in those parts ain’t great. She’s shot me a few texts, but that’s all.”

Eyes widening incredulously, Cordelia’s mouth fumbled, trying to find the right way to frame the words. “This is how a lot of  _ Unsolved Mysteries _ cases start, you know.” Misty muffled a yawn with her right hand, only vaguely humming along to Cordelia’s statement. “How long has it been since you slept?”

Misty shook herself from her delirium. “I dunno. I sleep when she sleeps. She doesn’t sleep for more than an hour at a time… and that’s if I’m lucky.” She popped her back. “I did try a silencing spell on her, hoping everybody else could have some peace at least, but it didn’t work. She turned pink. Like, fluorescent pink. And she was still screaming. I thought it would be irresponsible to give my sister back a pink baby, so I undid it. Didn’t want to be responsible for Violet Beauregarde in the flesh.” 

“Silencing spells are meant to be placed on areas, like a room.” Misty touched her temple and grimaced as Cordelia spoke, like the sound of her voice grated on her ears. “Hey—” Cordelia touched her hip. “There’s already a silencing spell in my room. Let’s move the Pack ‘N Play in there when she wakes up, and I’ll watch her while you get some rest.” 

Misty shook her head. “Aw, naw, Miss Cordelia, you don’t need to do that. She’s my responsibility. I agreed to take her. Besides, you just got in from your trip. That’s not fair to you.” 

“You’re  _ my _ responsibility. You’re exhausted. You need some sleep. And frankly, so does everyone else in the coven. It won’t be any trouble for the both of you to stay with me for awhile.” Misty’s mouth swung open in another bold yawn. “Here—okay. You move some of your things into my room. I’ll tell the girls to come back upstairs. And when she wakes up, we’ll bring everything over.” 

“Okay.” Cordelia was almost surprised; she had expected Misty to protest at least in some way, but it seemed the tiredness had worn Misty down to the point of caving without resistance. “Anywhere in particular you want me to put stuff?” 

_ That’s a considerate question. _ “The bottom two drawers of the chest is fine.” 

Nodding, Misty rubbed her eyes with her fists. “Right. Thanks a lot, Miss Cordelia.” 

Cordelia wasn’t exactly sure what she had gotten herself into. But it couldn’t be that difficult, could it? Having a Pack ‘N Play in her room was her dream—well, a Pack ‘N Play  _ with _ a baby in it, not an empty one for her to stare at listlessly and cry until Hank finally broke down and busted it into pieces and burned it in the firepit in the backyard. With two people, caring for the baby couldn’t be too difficult. Misty had withered under the pressure to be sole provider, but she just needed a little help. Besides, Cordelia had learned a lot about babies in the many arduous months of enduring fertility treatment after fertility treatment at the doctor’s recommendation of being optimistic. They would be fine. 

Before she had reached the base of the stairs, Antoinette’s shriek pierced the air again. 

…

By the time she returned upstairs, the cry had been silenced.  _ She subdued the baby awfully fast. _ She swung open the door to her bedroom. The wail smacked her in the face.  _ No, just the silencing charm. _ Misty was on her knees with a blanket spread on the floor. “Sh, we’re okay. We’re okay, we’re very stinky. Yes, we are, we’re very, very stinky.” Misty busied her hands stripping off a soiled diaper and wrapping it up. “But our  _ Tante  _ Misty is going to clean us up, yes, she is, and then we’re going to stop crying. Yes, we are, we’re going to stop crying so Miss Cordelia thinks we’re cute and nice and doesn’t think we’re an evil little minion of death, yes, we are.” Cordelia smiled at the way Misty babbled to the baby, who kept crying as Misty cleaned her up and dried her carefully before applying a clean diaper. “We’re not going to have the whole coven knowing what  _ Tante  _ Misty already knows—that babies are stinky and loud and dumb, and nobody ever would want them if they knew the truth.”

Placing her suitcase on the bed, Cordelia asked, “Do you really think that?” She unzipped the bag and flipped it open. Everything was stuffed in uneven wads; she had planned on laundering it when she got home. Collecting the stack into her arms, she tossed it all haphazardly into the hamper.  _ I can deal with that later.  _ Usually she would not skimp on her chores, but she had something much more exciting to deal with now. 

“Oh, wholeheartedly. I firmly believe that only children and youngest siblings are the ones keeping the population going. Us older siblings know better.” 

“Really?”

“You’re an only child, aren’t you?” Cordelia nodded and shrugged. “How’d I guess?” The baby quieted as Misty picked her up again and rocked her. She sucked on her pacifier and gazed up at Misty with beautiful squinting blue eyes. “Here. She wants to be entertained. I’ll get a load of laundry to wash.” Misty thrust the baby toward Cordelia.

Catching her, Cordelia’s eyes widened. Little fists batted upward at her. She blinked a few times in surprise, but her voice caught in her throat before she had the opportunity to form a coherent protest. Misty dragged off the hamper without another word, leaving Cordelia holding the baby. “Er—” 

Every shred of confidence fled her body, birds taking to the trees, as she stared down into those odd blue eyes. “Hi?” She paused, as if waiting for an answer.  _ Don’t be silly. It’s a baby. It doesn’t talk… I don’t think _ . When did babies start talking?  _ How old is this baby? _ This baby was still very small, in the stage where she didn’t look wholly human. It didn’t take a baby expert to recognize this baby was not old enough to speak yet. “Right, you can’t talk back yet. Right.” She licked her lips. “Well…” The little hand reached up to her. She offered a finger. The baby clutched it. “Friendly little girl, aren’t you?” 

The baby squeezed her finger and smiled. “You’re beautiful. Yes, I think so. I think I would’ve wanted one just like you.” The baby sneezed. Cordelia jumped in surprise. Snot trickled down from her nose. “Oh. Oh, dear. What do I do with that? I mean, what should I do?” 

Cordelia surveyed the room in a panic, looking for something she could use to wipe the snot from Antoinette’s nose.  _ Can I use a baby wipe for that? _ What exactly was in a baby wipe? Was it safe for use on the face? The last thing she wanted to do was give her some kind of rash or chemical burn; babies had such notoriously sensitive skin.  _ Toilet paper? Paper towel? _ No, both were too rough. Did she have some kind of bib or special baby cloth for these things? 

“You’ll forgive me. I’m not exactly experienced in these sorts of things.” All of her assurances evaporated. How much education had she actually received? The hospital didn’t start baby education until one was  _ actually _ pregnant, and Cordelia had never reached that point. She had watched a lot of YouTube videos. No one had ever made a YouTube video on what to use when wiping a baby’s nose.  _ Probably because no one thought one needed to be made. _ A furious blush coursed to Cordelia’s face. 

Quiet footsteps reentered Cordelia’s room. “Oh, hey, she’s still quiet.” Misty closed the door behind herself. “Are you alright? You’re holding her like a curious gorilla trying to figure out what she is.” 

Turning on her heel, Cordelia blinked a few times. “Um, right—I’m fine, I just—she sneezed. What should I do?”

Misty ogled at her like she had grown a second head. “You’re gonna call me a genius, but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you should wipe her nose. She’s not gonna do it herself, you know.” 

“I  _ know _ I should wipe her nose, but what should I use? Is there a special nose wipe that I’m not seeing? Or should I use a baby wipe? Or toilet paper? Or a tissue? Or a bib? There are so many options, I just—” Misty approached her, and Cordelia cut off her stammering as Misty took her stained shirt by the hem and used the band to wipe away the snot from around her face. “Or I could just do that.”

Raising her eyebrows, Misty tilted her head. “This baby thing is a real novelty for you, isn’t it?” Cordelia’s blush darkened. “There’s nothing wrong with that. You just look like the extent of your baby experience happened in home ec in high school when you had to carry around a flour bag for a few days.” 

“It wasn’t a flour bag. It was an animatronic baby. And it always cooed for me.” Misty held her unimpressed look. “Okay, so I’m not on  _ SuperNanny, _ ” Cordelia confessed. “What’s the answer? How do you know things?”

“The answer?” Misty asked. Cordelia nodded. “I mean, I dunno. You learn as you go and you try to save money. Baby wipes are expensive. Don’t use them on frivolous things. Diapers, too. And formula, but—well, it’s kind of hard to misuse formula.” Misty sighed, trying to muffle another yawn. “I’ll get the rest of her things in here and get things set up.” She pushed a hand through her disheveled hair. 

She left the room, and she returned with several bags of diapers and packs of baby wipes and tubs of formula and bottles and bibs and clothes and many other things Cordelia had always known a baby would logically need but had never seen in full in her bedroom. Misty shoved it all into a corner with no wall hangings above it. “You really don’t mind me bringing some of my things in here for a few days?” 

Cordelia brightened. “Not at all!” She hadn’t had company in her room in a long time—since Hank had left. The king-sized bed was lonely in the middle of the night. “I appreciate having some company,” she added as an afterthought. “It—It feels rather isolating sometimes.”  _ Did I say too much? _ She bit the tip of her tongue. “Don’t you think?” The question was difficult, validation-seeking. 

Misty’s blue eyes found hers across the room. A strange emotion crossed her face. “Yeah, I think.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the edges. “Thanks for all the help, Miss Cordelia. I really appreciate it.” 

“It’s no problem, Misty. I’m happy to help.” 

In a few moments, Misty brought a few stacks of her clothing and went to the bottom drawer of the chest. It slid open with ease. “You really don’t have anything in here at all?” she asked. Cordelia shook her head. “It’s not even like your junk drawer or something. Why’s it empty?” 

It was an innocent question asked as Misty folded her clothing into the drawer. “It was Hank’s drawer.” The closet Cordelia had invaded with relative ease, but they had split the chest of drawers equally, and she hadn’t yet brought herself to fill the bottom two drawers where he had once placed his belongings.  _ I don’t know why. _ Her heart stung at the reflection. She owed him  _ nothing, _ not her grief, not her love, certainly not a remnant of his presence in her bedroom. “I haven’t had the need to colonize it yet. I suppose I was saving it for a time like this.” 

His betrayal had hurt. His loss had hurt more. She couldn’t explain it. “Oh,” Misty said, and the pity was palpable in her voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring him up if you don’t want to talk about him.” 

“It doesn’t bother me.”  _ No one else ever listens. _ Cordelia didn’t want to bore Misty, but then again… Misty  _ was _ stuck with her for a few days. Would she be a terrible person if she took advantage?  _ Yes, that makes me a terrible person. _ She tried to mute the quiet mean voice in her head. “He’s also the reason this room has a silencing spell.”

“Do I want to know?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Well, now you’ve got to tell me.” 

Cordelia chuckled. Misty always made her laugh.  _ I missed her. _ She hadn’t realized missing the rest of her witches while she was away—but she had noticed missing Misty. She had missed the timbre of her voice and the perky tone to her laugh and the glimmer in her cerulean eyes, mirrored in the eyes of the little one gazing up at her in awe. She offered a finger, and the baby took it again. “Hank was a very— _ raucous _ lover. I suppose he thought it made up for being entirely unsatisfactory otherwise.” Misty choked herself with laughter at the bluntness of Cordelia’s words. “He refused to quiet himself down, and I got tired of being mocked.” 

“Madison?” Misty guessed. 

“Yes, Madison. She wasn’t too pleased with the development when I placed the spell. But it didn’t take her long to find another one of my numerous flaws to pick at.” 

Misty pushed the drawer back into the chest. Her feet fell silently on the hardwood floor. She sank onto the mattress, sitting beside Cordelia. “You’re too hard on yourself, you know. How many flaws do you really think you have?” 

Blowing a breath from between her lips, Cordelia found her mind scrambling. “Oh—god, that’s a miserable thing to ask me. I’m a doormat, I cave, I’m terrible at establishing rules and boundaries, I—I didn’t take my education as far as I needed to, I was a bad wife and clearly I wasn’t exactly cut out to be a mother either—” 

“Hey, you’re being unfair to yourself,” Misty interrupted. “You’re not a doormat. You care about the girls you’re responsible for. You make sure they have what they need to be happy and healthy here. Sometimes that means bending rules a little. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Leaning over, Misty peeked down at the baby, who had fallen asleep in Cordelia’s arms, her index finger still grasped in her tiny fist. Cordelia watched Misty’s face as she leaned forward. Her platinum hair fell into her eyes. She swept it back with one hand. The light through the window glinted on her hair like a precious jewel.  _ She’s beautiful. _ The ruggedness of enervation had not leeched Misty of her charm or her beauty. “I didn’t do much with my education, but you’d never say that about me, would you?” Misty asked, not looking up from Antoinette.

This question gave Cordelia pause. “Well, no, but—”

“But what?” 

“It’s different for me. I’m the Supreme. I should be—of a certain educational echelon, in order to perform my best.” 

“So if I had been the Supreme, you would’ve been packing me up to go to college?” Misty asked dubiously.  _ No, probably not. _ “The last thing a Supreme needs is another responsibility on her plate. God forbid trying to get some convoluted degree. You’re doing wonderfully for everyone here.” Cordelia bit her lower lip, averting her eyes as Misty looked from Antoinette back to her face. “Hey, look at me.” 

_ I’m not sure I want to. _ Cordelia had hoped for Misty to listen to her, had craved a little smidgen of attention, but now that she was receiving it, she fidgeted beneath it. She couldn’t escape the overwhelming feeling of not deserving it, of needing to escape it. “I can’t speak to you being a good wife, but Hank was a  _ shit _ husband, and nothing you could’ve done would’ve changed that. I mean, hell, everything he did was bad enough, but if he wasn’t even making you orgasm, what the hell was the point? I know men are not my area of expertise and I would sooner hold a hot coal than touch one like that, but he was from the very bottom of the barrel.” 

“You don’t think it was because of me? Because I didn’t do enough?”

“Do  _ enough? _ For  _ him? _ ” Misty echoed. “No. I don’t think that. Not for a minute. And neither should you. He was an evil, evil person. Okay? Whatever you gave him, it was more kindness and love than he deserved, because you’re beautiful and amazing and anyone would be lucky to have you. He was a fool to ever take any of that for granted.” Misty’s hand touched the small of Cordelia’s back. It was a warm hand, strong, firm. She licked her lips at the sensation. “And you have no reason to think you’ll be a bad mom. Taking care of a baby is just a skill. Believe me, I hate kids, and she’s doing just fine. I mean, I turned her pink once, but that was an accident.” 

Cordelia’s brow quirked. “If you feel that way, why’d you agree to this?” 

Misty tilted her head. “You do for family,” she explained with a shrug. “Maude’s my little sister. I couldn’t leave her hanging when she needed me. There wasn’t anybody else she trusted to do it.” She grinned. “Plus, I need a reminder every couple of years when I start thinking that babies are cute. A couple of sleepless nights and shirts covered in spit up, I change my tune  _ real _ fast.” 

“She is really cute.” Cordelia stood from the side of the bed and took the sleeping bundle to the Pack ‘N Play, bending over to place the baby inside it. As she settled the baby’s limbs, she twitched, little fists tightening, but she didn’t awaken.  _ Not yet, anyway. _

“How was Atlanta?” Misty’s eyes followed Cordelia across the floor. 

Cordelia looked back at her. “Hm?” The baby didn’t stir. 

“I didn’t get the chance to ask you earlier.” Cordelia stared at her blankly. “You know… Atlanta. The place you went. For ten days. The place you just came back from. Did you go to the aquarium? I’ve always wanted to go to the Atlanta aquarium.” 

_ Right. Atlanta.  _ The trip seemed like a distant memory to her now. Having someone ask her about it… She didn’t think that had ever happened before. It was so rare for anyone to demonstrate any interest in what she did with her time. Her trips to educational seminars and press conferences were what Madison had aptly dubbed a  _ snooze-fest _ , and she had expected everyone else to follow that line of thought. “Oh… No, I didn’t go anywhere. Just the seminar and conferences I was supposed to attend.” 

Misty’s brow quirked. “But some of those things were days apart. What’d you do on the days you didn’t have those things?” 

“I just stayed in my hotel and caught up on work.” 

“And by work you mean you downloaded Tinder and had a fun hookup?” Misty guessed. 

With a snorting laugh, Cordelia shook her head. “No, I—I just stayed in the hotel. You know, alone. What’s so hard to believe about that? You know I’m boring.” 

She sat on the mattress beside Misty again, and Misty looked at the side of her face. “You’re not boring. You’re just very tame.” Misty touched her hand. The warmth surprised Cordelia—but her limb was still cold, chilled, as if her body had gone so long without sleep she had forgotten how to warm herself. “I thought you would enjoy your time getting to be away from all of this.”

_ I could have. _ “I guess it never occurred to me to spend any time doing anything like that,” Cordelia confessed with a shrug. She hadn’t considered it. She felt obligated to spend all of her time, even her personal time, doing things for the coven. “I don’t think Supremes are supposed to have fun.”

“I don’t think Supremes are supposed to waste away all of their potential enjoyment to torture themselves for the coven,” Misty shot back, and a wan smile crossed Cordelia’s face. “So if you didn’t have fun at the tourist attractions, did you at least enjoy your seminars?” 

“They were interesting, I guess. What’s with the fifth degree?” 

“Fifth degree?”

“Nobody ever asks this many questions about where I’ve been.” Cordelia had come home to find Misty with a whole  _ baby. _ If one of them had the right to ask increasingly prying questions, it was Cordelia. But she didn’t remind Misty of this. 

A quiet laugh floated from Misty’s lips like a balloon taking to the sky. “I’m trying to show I’m interested in what you did while you were gone, but you’re not making it very easy to be your friend right now.” Quizzical brown eyes swept Misty’s form, but she found Misty’s honest cerulean eyes gazing back into hers, carrying no pretense. “You’re really not used to people caring about you, are you?” 

Cordelia tilted her head. It was a strange question, so straightforward; from anyone else, she would have thought it hostile, but Misty’s expression was as earnest and genuine as ever. “Well… No, I suppose not.” No one ever cared enough to ask Cordelia questions about her ventures. They didn’t care. Frankly,  _ she _ didn’t care that much. 

Misty stroked the back of her hand. “Then get used to it. You’re going to have to start doing fun stuff when you leave town so you can tell me about it. I have to have some relief from being stuck with Maddie while you’re gone.” Cordelia ducked her head with a smile at Misty’s blunt words. “Where are you off to next month? Tampa?”

“Orlando.” 

“See? You’re going to  _ Orlando _ and you’re not even planning on going to Disney World? Or Universal Studios? There’s so much fun to be had that you’re just sleeping on. I want photographic evidence of you on the Matterhorn.”

Cordelia chuckled, shaking her head. “It’d be a waste for me to go to Disney by myself. It’d be sad and weird.” She studied the side of Misty’s face. “Unless you’d like to come with me?” she asked hesitantly, hopefully. She had never bothered to invite anyone on one of her trips before; she assumed it a waste of her breath to try to get anyone interested in the networking things she did for the coven outside of the academy. “We could get evidence of us both on the Matterhorn.” 

Misty grinned. “Are you serious?” Cordelia nodded. “I don’t want to shoehorn into your trip.” 

“Believe me, there’s nothing to shoehorn into. I’d appreciate the company.” 

“Well, call it a date.” Misty pecked her cheek. Cordelia’s eyes fluttered wide. Misty bounced off of the bed. “Look, the baby’s asleep and probably will be for the next twenty minutes, so I’m going to shower and maybe take a power nap  _ in  _ the shower. If the baby cries, please do not shake her or explode her with your mind and if she sneezes, you can wipe her face with just about anything. Formula, diapers, everything you need is in the diaper bag—oh, and it’s time for her to get some more tummy time the next time she wakes up. Just put her on her blanket on the floor.  _ Don’t _ put her down on the bed, that’s like crazy unsafe—which I guess if she died I would just bring her back and never tell Maude, ever, but really, I prefer the baby alive.” 

Cordelia blinked a few times. It was a  _ lot _ of information to process for someone who had never cared for a baby before. She opened her mouth, but Misty left the room before she could shout after her.  _ She could use my bathroom… _ Cordelia didn’t want to seem too needy, so she decided not to pursue Misty.  _ She looks exhausted, and her hair is greasy. She deserves a break. _ Sliding her suitcases back under her bed, Cordelia took the opportunity to change into comfier clothes and stretched out on her bed, waiting for Misty’s return. 

…

The evening passed into night, and soon enough, Cordelia found herself tucked into bed beside Misty, inches away from her. She peered over the covers in the darkness of the room to watch her. The curtains were open, and the moonlight bathed Misty in silver.  _ She really is beautiful. _ She reached out and caressed the curls where they had spread over to Cordelia’s side of the bed. One of them coiled around her finger and then sprang from it. Cordelia smiled at the elasticity of the curl. Misty snored.  _ I should try to sleep.  _ She could hear the baby breathing from across the room. Part of her wanted to get up and watch, but the last time she had done so, Antoinette had woken up, and she didn’t want to disturb Misty now when she was getting some much-needed rest. 

She couldn’t close her eyes. Not when Misty was so near to her. It made her warm from head to toe. Her rogue hand reached out, beyond the spread of Misty’s curls, and touched the warm opening of her hand where it rested palm-up on top of the blankets. Like an infant’s, Misty’s fingers instinctively zipped through hers.  _ What am I doing?  _ Cordelia asked herself the question, but she didn’t have an answer. 

The baby’s breathing hitched and bloomed into a whimper. With a crescendo, it boiled into a shriek. Misty stirred, lifting her head and pulling her hand away from Cordelia’s. “Huh?” She lifted her head and squinted across the bed at her, disoriented. “Oh, shit, sorry—” She drew the covers back. 

“No, no, I’ve got her… You go back to sleep, you need it.” Cordelia brushed the covers back down over Misty’s back. Skeptical eyes squinted at her, following her as she clambered out of the bed and tiptoed toward the bassinet, turning on the tall dim lamp beside the window. “It’s okay, Misty, I’ve got her,” Cordelia said again patiently. Misty collapsed back into bed with a sigh and dragged the covers up over her head.  _ She must be beat. _ There was no way Misty would have succumbed so easily under ordinary circumstances. 

Cordelia cared for the baby, and she did it twice more before the sun rose, changing the wet diaper and providing a bottle of formula (Antoinette did not seem to like the way Cordelia had made her formula, and Cordelia was too tired to march it all the way downstairs to pour it out, so she left it beside the bassinet to discard in the morning) and shushing her until she finally went back to sleep for the last time. 

When the morning birds rose over the horizon, singing their cheerful tune, Cordelia blinked into wakefulness at the sensation of Misty leaving the bed. She rolled over and stretched out, long and languid, and then she stood. Cordelia’s eyes flicked open to watch her in the golden light.  _ She’s beautiful. _ She was as gorgeous now as she had been in the dark hours, equally agreeable to silver moonlight and the rosy dawn. Misty yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. Her hair had tangled up into a great, untameable mass.  _ How does she manage that?  _ As Misty looked back to her, Cordelia’s eyes flicked closed, retreating a little deeper into her shell of blankets. 

Misty grinned. “Morning, possum.” She touched the top of Cordelia’s head, ruffling her bed-head.  _ Aw, shucks.  _ “I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” Cordelia blushed.  _ What’s wrong with me? _

Pulling back the covers, Cordelia reluctantly sat up. As she stretched, her back and neck cracked audibly. “Fine. I’m caught red-handed.” She covered her mouth to hide a yawn.

“Aw, you can go back to sleep. I was just messing with you since I saw you watching me. But you really  _ didn’t _ have to take  _ every _ shift, you know. It was nice enough to offer us your room. The baby’s my problem, not yours.” 

“Oh, I don’t mind helping out at all.” Even the baby was more company than Cordelia was used to. She appreciated all of it, the disturbed sleep, the warm body in the bed beside her, the company, the talking, the—

“What the  _ fuck _ happened in the Pack ‘N Play?” 

Cutting off Cordelia’s train of thought, she stood from the bed and followed Misty’s gaze. “What do you mean— _ holy shit. _ ”

Misty gaped. “ _ Holy shit _ is right.” The baby lay in the middle of a pile of her own excrement, sleeping peacefully on her back. It streaked down her limbs and across the sheet of the bassinet like she had thrashed around in it a few times. “Her poop was fine yesterday! She had the diarrhea explosion of the century. How did this happen?” She leaned over the bassinet, looking in at the sleeping baby. Cordelia followed her. It had poured from around her diaper between her legs, streaked up her back, and shot out of the top of the neck of her onesie. With delicate fingers, Misty unsnapped it. The baby didn’t stir yet. “Oh… The diaper’s backward. And inside out.” 

Eyes widened as Misty looked back at her. She wore a smile; nothing was accusatory. Guilt plagued Cordelia’s middle anyway. “I didn’t realize there was a backward… or an inside out. There wasn’t exactly a diagram.”

A broad grin broke out across Misty’s face. She snickered. “I don’t think most people  _ need _ diagrams to put a diaper on a baby. But I can draw you up one.” She spotted the old bottle of formula a few feet away from the bassinet and picked it up. “Is this what you fed her last night?”

Large curds of milk floated on top of the white liquid. Misty shook it, but it didn’t dissolve. “Er… It didn’t look that bad last night, I don’t think.”  _ I may not know much about babies, but I wouldn’t have fed her chunky formula. _ But it had been dark, with only the dim floor lamp to illuminate the room—she hadn’t turned on any overhead lights to keep from disturbing Misty, and the floor lamp provided ambient yellow lighting which was not conducive to anything productive. “In retrospect, that might have been why she didn’t eat very well.”

“And I’d wager it gave her an upset stomach, hence the… violent diarrhea. How did you mix it? The directions are right there on the container.” 

“It said one part formula to one part water.”

Misty narrowed her eyes at her. “Where would it say that? No formula in the history of all baby formulas has ever been mixed one to one. That’s, like, super thick. I wouldn’t want to drink that, either.” 

“No—Oh, c’mon, I may not know anything about babies, but I  _ can _ read.” Cordelia picked up the jar of formula and turned it around to the instructions, which were in extra fine print. “See, it says mix one scoop of formula per… two fluid ounces…” Misty snorted. “Okay, apparently I can’t read either.” 

Reaching out, Misty touched her waist. “It’s alright. It was dark. I should’ve shown you how everything was done before I gave you the reins and let you cause poop-mageddon.” 

The hand on Cordelia’s waist soothed her. “You probably didn’t think you  _ had  _ to show me how not to be grossly incompetent.” 

“Oh, lighten up. The baby’s still alive. Between you and me, this is probably better than whatever the hell Maude is managing at home. That girl doesn’t have the sense God gave a cow. It’s just poop.” Misty leaned over the bassinet, reaching for the baby. Cordelia swatted at her hands. “What? Do you want to give her a bath so you have the opportunity to throw the baby out with the bathwater, too?” 

“What? No!” Cordelia’s face flushed in shame, but Misty put a hand on her hip again and pulled her closer, laughing at her own teasing, and Cordelia couldn’t help but laugh along with her. Misty  _ didn’t _ think she was stupid or incompetent or neglectful… and for Cordelia, who had struggled her whole life thinking those things about herself, it meant the whole world. “She’s asleep. Do you really want to wake her up? I’ve seen that episode of  _ Friends, _ I know how this ends.” 

“Never saw it. How does it end?”

Cordelia gawped at her. “You never watched  _ Friends? _ ” Misty arched an eyebrow at her. “Right, not the point. But never wake a sleeping baby!”

With a quirked brow, Misty tilted her head. “Counterpoint: She’s a human being lying in her own waste. I’m her caretaker, and it’s my job to clean her up.” Misty bent over. Her hands reached for the infant, and she placed one hand on her chest, gently waking her. Antoinette sniffled awake and whimpered. “Hey there, stinky. Looking at you like this makes my ovaries shrivel up and die inside of me.” Misty unsnapped her onesie and took off her diaper. She used her onesie to wipe up as much of the slippery poop from her naked body as she could. “We’ll just throw this onesie away, won’t we? Mommy won’t even notice it’s missing.” She picked up the naked baby. “Don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee, don’t pee—” She headed toward the bathroom sink. “Will you get the baby soap from the diaper bag?” 

Cordelia opened up the diaper bag and found the baby soap and baby lotion, and she trotted after Misty as Misty turned on the water and plugged up the bottom of the sink. She filled the sink just enough to cover Antoinette’s back. Using her wrist, she tested the temperature of the water, and then she slid the naked baby feet-first into the water. “Do you want to do this?” Misty asked. 

Sucking on the inside of her cheek, Cordelia shook her head. “I think I’ve proved myself neglectful enough for one night.” 

“Oh, c’mon, I was joking about you throwing the baby out with the bathwater.” Misty kept one hand on Antoinette’s chest, but she reached back for Cordelia’s hand, leading her up to the sink. “Taking care of a baby is something you have to learn how to do. Nobody is born knowing everything about it.” Reluctantly, Cordelia flanked Misty at the counter. Antoinette’s face curled up in displeasure at the water, her tiny toes curling, but Misty poured the warm water over her chest, and her wide blue eyes lost their irritated glimmer and instead admired the way the water crossed her body. “See, she’s happy now. Sometimes you can wake a sleeping baby.”

Misty nudged a soft washcloth toward her. Cordelia picked it up. “What should I do with this?” An eyebrow arched at her, and Misty didn’t answer. “I suppose you want me to wash the baby with it…”  _ Let’s not make ourselves look stupid, now. _ Cordelia wet the washcloth and put the liquid baby soap in it. Misty stepped to the side to give her more space, keeping one hand on Antoinette’s chest. As Cordelia plunged her hands into the water, Misty took a step away. “Wait, don’t leave! I might need you.” 

A silly giggle left Misty’s lips. “I was just going to clean up the Pack ‘N Play—”

Anxiety flushed through Cordelia. “You shouldn’t leave us unattended. I—I don’t know what I’m doing.” A soft hand touched the small of her back, rubbing in a soothing circle. “What if she drowns?” 

“She’s not going to drown,” Misty promised. “The number one rule of giving a baby a bath is to always keep a hand on the baby. Make sure you know where her face is so she doesn’t breathe in water. That’s all it takes, really, I swear.” She started to walk away, but Cordelia grabbed her by the wrist, eyes bulging in fear. Her breath choked up in her throat. She had a real, living baby in a precarious position, and she hadn’t exactly proven herself a competent caregiver at this point. She needed Misty to watch her to make sure she was doing it right. “Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere.” Misty stifled a yawn with one hand and popped up onto the countertop. 

Her long, unshaven legs dangled beside Cordelia, whose gaze longed to worship them. She didn’t dare take her attention away from the baby. Satisfied coos teased the air. Cordelia used the washcloth to wipe all of the remaining fecal matter from her back, butt, and thighs. “How do you know she’s clean?” 

One of Misty’s legs brushed up against Cordelia’s outer thigh. Her nightgown hiked up where she sat on the countertop. “When you smell a clean baby more than you smell a stinky baby, the baby is clean.” Cordelia inhaled through her nose.  _ I only smell Misty’s shampoo. _ Her face flushed as she realized it. “This one doesn’t have enough hair to use shampoo or anything. We’ll put lotion on her when we’re done.”

Cordelia wiped around Antoinette’s face and hair, careful not to get any soap or water into her beautiful, expressive eyes, so much like Misty’s. She could see herself reflected in Antoinette’s cerulean eyes. The fine shock of blonde hair did not yet have any texture, but Cordelia couldn’t help but wonder if this little one would grow to have curly hair like Misty. “Do you think her eyes will change color?” she asked. 

Tipping her chin, Misty shrugged. “Dunno. Maude has blue eyes. I haven’t yet had the misfortune to meet the  _ macaque _ she reproduced with.” 

“Does everyone in your family have blue eyes?”

Misty shook her head. “Moise, Mitchell, and Mathilde have brown eyes. But they all were born with blue eyes.” Cordelia glanced up at her. “Yes, my family did the dumb name theme thing with the letter M.” Cordelia laughed. “And then they added the French thing halfway through. Meranthe and Marcelie.”

“You have six siblings?” 

“Yeah. I’m the oldest of seven.” 

“That’s where you learned all of the baby stuff?” Misty nodded. “Did you have some of those awful parents who always expected their oldest child to be their unpaid babysitter?” 

Misty cackled. Cordelia rinsed off the baby and pulled her from the water, wrapping her in a soft hand towel. “You could say that. My mama was a crack addict.” She opened up the bottle of lotion and offered it to Cordelia as she dried the wiggling baby. “That was why I stuck around as long as I did, I reckon. She just wouldn’t stop popping out the semen demons.” 

With a short laugh, Cordelia protested, “Misty! That’s a terrible thing to say.”

“Oh, says the only child. What were you doing with all of your free time when you were twelve and not feeding, bathing, and clothing your little siblings?” 

Cordelia shook her head. “Semen demons,” she repeated under her breath, and she laughed again at the incredulity of it. She shook up the bottle of lotion and applied it to her palm. “I guess I was lucky Fiona stopped with one.” 

“Why would she have had more? She clearly got it right the first time. Why mess with perfection?” Cordelia blushed and shook her head. “It’s like if you got one hundred percent on the first test and decided to retake it anyway. That’d be stupid.”

With a snort, Cordelia raised her eyebrows. “She might have wanted more. I don’t know. We never talked about it. It’s—It’s very common for Supremes to have issues with fertility, because we aren’t supposed to have children, to keep from distracting from the coven.”

“And you still didn’t see it coming?”

Cordelia looked up at Misty. “You’re  _ gravely _ overestimating my self-esteem, Misty.” She looked down at the baby to keep from making eye contact with her. “I still wake up sometimes and wait for someone to start—start laughing at the  _ joke _ , that I am where I am now. I feel gullible for thinking that I’m capable of anything at all.” 

She smeared generous swaths of baby lotion across Antoinette’s skin, aggressively avoiding Misty’s gaze; she feared any rebuke she would get from Misty for expressing her insecurities. “Hey.” Cordelia’s hands paused where they massaged Antoinette’s chest. Misty touched her chin with her forefinger, tilting her head upward. “I think you’re capable of everything in the whole world.” Misty kissed her own fingertips and pressed them to Cordelia’s lips. Even the tips of her ears flamed, itching with shame and attraction. Misty hopped off of the countertop where she sat. “I can’t say you’re not gullible, though. You really believed I stole a baby from the park.” 

Her hand passed over Cordelia’s waist as she walked around her. “Where—Where—” Cordelia cleared her throat. Her voice shook.  _ What was that?  _ she wanted to ask, but she didn’t dare. Her mouth tightened. She didn’t know how to think of what Misty had just done or the polarizing effect Misty had upon her. It made her mind skip like a broken record. “Where are you going?” 

“I’ve got to clean up the Pack ‘N Play before we’re putting her back in it.”

“What if I need you?”

“I’m right here. Just make sure you rub the lotion in really well. A slippery baby is not fun at all.” Cordelia watched from the corner of her eye as Misty stripped the sheet and the dirty sleeper and soiled diaper from the bassinet. She rolled it all up and set out a blanket on the floor with a clean diaper, some wipes, and a new outfit. Misty brought everything soiled into the bathroom and shook what she could into the toilet. “Alright. I’m going to run down to change out the laundry. Please do not destroy the baby while I am gone.” 

“Wait, wait, wait—” Misty paused, waiting obediently for Cordelia to demand something else from her, but Cordelia realized she didn’t actually have a question—only loads of unbridled anxiety, slightly alleviated by the good experience of giving the happy baby her bath. “Okay. Maybe I can handle it. I don’t have any specific questions at this time.” 

Musical laughter, low and tenor, floated from Misty’s mouth. “Well, if there are no specific questions, then the  _ professor _ is going to go do some laundry.” She tossed out the diaper and collected all of the soiled linens. “I’ll be right back.”

Cordelia carried the baby to the towel Misty had spread on the floor.  _ I should put the diaper on. _ She had managed to put it on wrong two ways the last time, and it had caused the diarrhea blowout of the century.  _ I should wait for Misty to get back.  _ But then she ran the risk of the baby pottying too soon. She licked her lips.  _ I never imagined this was going to be so stressful. _ She didn’t know why she had never imagined it to be so difficult; perhaps, in her mind, raising children was her perfect idyllic happiness, so she could never picture it as anything less than pure bliss.  _ Lots of anxiety, lots of uncertainty… _

This situation made her glad of one thing, though: She was doing it with Misty. Hank would’ve been a nightmare of a caregiver. 

Picking up the diaper, Cordelia opened it and turned it around as the baby kicked out her little arms and legs. “Don’t suppose you’re going to coach me how to do this the right way?” Cordelia asked her, peering down out of the corner of her eye. She wore a goofy, reflexive smile. Cordelia smiled back at her. “I bet you’d have lots of good advice to give me if you could talk. Do you know which side is supposed to be for your butt? See, I put it on wrong before, and you made a big, gross mess.” 

In those azure eyes, she saw herself reflected again, large mirrors. Cordelia nibbled on her lower lip as she gazed at her own reflection. She could picture those eyes in Misty’s face. “You look a lot like her, you know.” Taking Antoinette by the ankles, she lifted up her butt and slid the diaper underneath her, hoping she had it facing the right direction. “She would have really cute ones that look a lot like you.” Antoinette sneezed. “Oh, dear.” Cordelia wiped her nose with the corner of the towel. “I guess that’s probably what Misty would say if she heard me, too,” Cordelia joked. “I shouldn’t talk about it. I like her a lot, you know. It’ll be my luck she runs off with—” She tried to remember the word Misty had used earlier. She didn’t know what it meant exactly, but she got the gist. “—with some  _ macaque _ and gets married and has more babies than she knows what to do with.” 

Using the adhesive of the diaper, Cordelia secured it in place, checking with her fingers to ensure it wasn’t too tight. “Maybe I’ll be lucky, and she’ll think I’m worth being a babysitter sometimes. It’d hurt to see her like that, with someone else, but… well, I’m used to being hurt by now, I think.” She wiped her own cheek, brushing a fallen eyelash from it. “I would want her to be happy, even if that doesn’t include me.” 

She picked up the onesie Misty had chosen. It was a pale yellow with little strawberries dappled all over it. She collected it up in a wad and scooted it over Antoinette’s head, helping her pop through the other side, and then she guided her limbs through the sleeves one at a time. Antoinette didn’t like it and whined. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. We’re almost done, I promise, alright?” Cordelia did the snaps down at the bottom of the onesie to secure it in place. “Now, you can’t tell anybody what we talked about, alright? I’d be really upset if your Aunt Misty found out. She’d think of me differently.” 

Misty reentered the room, carrying a laundry basket filled with the clothes she had taken downstairs yesterday. “I’ve got all of your laundry from yesterday.” She poured it out onto Cordelia’s bed. “How’s it going?” 

“We were just talking about our Aunt Misty.” 

A coy smirk crossed Misty’s face. “Is that so?” She settled down beside Cordelia on the floor. “Did she tell you it’s  _ Tante _ Misty?” 

“She did not. She doesn’t know what that means.” Cordelia lifted her nose, gazing across at Misty’s silly face to make one of her own. She could relax enough around Misty to act silly and expressive; she hadn’t known this sort of freedom in years. “Maybe our  _ Tante  _ Misty should tell us.”

Misty laughed. She took Cordelia’s hand, lifting it as she scooted closer. Their knees bumped against one another where they sat on the floor. “It’s just the Cajun word for  _ aunt, _ you goofball.” Her touch scalded Cordelia’s skin, but Cordelia couldn’t bring herself to pull away; it was addictive, Misty’s proximity to her, the sensation of their skins brushing one another’s. Her mouth dried up as she gazed at Misty, the way her rumpled bed head still framed her face just so. Cordelia didn’t know what to say in response; any intelligence fled the sight of her brain, which fixated on Misty,  _ Misty, Misty _ , and she could think of nothing else until Misty’s hand left hers and reached for the baby. “Let’s give her some tummy time and make ourselves look presentable. We’ve got to eat breakfast, and she’s going to want some soon.” She flipped the baby over onto her tummy on the towel. 

_ Right. I still have to function. _ She cleared her throat, nodding as if she had known this all along—as if she hadn’t forgotten all of her other responsibilities in favor of spending time with Misty. “Right—I can—I’ll stay here and put clothes away to keep an eye on her, and you can get dressed.”

“You sure? You can go first if you want.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Go ahead.” Cordelia opened her arm toward the bathroom, and Misty shrugged and stood. She touched Cordelia’s shoulder as she passed by. She closed the door as she entered the bathroom. The sensation of her hand on Cordelia’s shoulder lingered until she heard the sound of the sink running again. 

…

Once they had each dressed, taking shifts to watch Antoinette and entertain her, they headed downstairs into the kitchen where the other girls already mulled about. Misty carried Antoinette in front of her, but the moment her feet hit the stairs, the baby began to whimper and whine. Misty shushed her. Cordelia looked at them. “She knows Maddie doesn’t like her. She cries whenever we go around her.”

Sure enough, Madison waited at the base of the stairs.  _ I, too, would like to cry whenever I’m around Madison,  _ Cordelia thought ironically. “Oh, look, it’s the happy couple and their noisemaker. What’d you do to keep her quiet last night? You put a pillow over her face, or…”

Misty hit the bottom stair and approached Madison in long, slow strides. Antoinette howled. At the obtrusive sound, Madison scowled, but Misty lifted her head to stare down her nose at Madison, marching well into her personal space so mere inches separated their bodies. Misty strolled around her almost casually, but her face was dead set and unwavering. “If you say another word about Antoinette, Cordelia, my sister, or anybody else in my family, I’ll knock every one of those expensive Hollywood teeth out of your pretty little head.” 

_ Anyone else in her family? _ Cordelia almost questioned Misty on the spot, how _ she _ managed to be included in Misty’s family, but she bit her tongue; she wouldn’t dare undermine Misty’s cause in front of Madison, who would look for any crack in her foundation to jab at. 

Madison tilted her head, her smart mouth pursing. “Your _ family? _ ” She snorted a sharp laugh.  _ Uh-oh. _ Madison was about to cross a line. As she realized it, Cordelia approached Misty from behind. “The same ones who burned you alive? I would say don’t put your hand in the fire for them, but it’s a little bit late for that, don’t you say?” 

Whole body tensing, Misty drew back an arm. Cordelia caught her by the elbow. “Hey, hey, hey, Misty, be the grownup!” She slid Antoinette out of Misty’s arms. Misty glared at her. “If you’re going to hurt each other, at least do it farther away from the crying baby, alright?” Antoinette screamed and thrashed her little arms. Her face reddened with her distress at the tension crackling in the room. Cordelia lifted her up and shushed her, trying to alleviate her discomfort. Her diaper was still dry and clean. Cordelia carried her into the kitchen with the diaper bag over her shoulder.

To her surprise, Misty followed immediately after her, silently seething. “You’re not going to kick her ass?” Cordelia asked as she took the large jar of formula out of the diaper bag, carefully shifting Antoinette’s weight as she did so, patting her and rocking her back and forth in the air. 

Misty averted her eyes. “No.” She reached to help Cordelia with the diaper bag. 

“She would deserve it.”

“I know, but she’s not worth it. One of us has to act like an adult, and it’s never going to be her.” Misty turned on the tap water and waited for it to warm. “ _ Fonchock,  _ that’s what she is,” she mumbled under her breath. She measured out the two ounces of warm water and filled the bottle, and then she added the scoop of formula and shook the bottle vigorously. Testing the temperature on her wrist, she licked off the drop and handed the bottle to Cordelia. “Here. I’ll make us some oatmeal.”

Her cheery face from the morning had vanished into a dour mood. Cordelia cradled Antoinette carefully in her arms, pressing the bottle up to her face, but she turned her face to the side and built up another loud screech. Cordelia winced. Her gaze followed Misty. Misty didn’t even turn back to look at her, poking through the fridge for some milk. Again, Cordelia offered the bottle, and this time, Antoinette quieted, opening her mouth for the nipple as it brushed her cheek.  _ She’s bothered. _ Madison had managed to get under her skin, which was exactly what Madison wanted to do. “Don’t let her agitate you. That’s what she wants.” 

Two words grated out from between Misty’s teeth. “I know.” 

Logic, apparently, was not going to help Cordelia comfort Misty.  _ Misty always knows what to say to reassure me… _ She had to find a way to reach Misty in the way Misty always reached her. Licking her lips nervously, Cordelia focused on the sounds of Antoinette slurping on her bottle. It was reassuring, the dysrhythmic nature of her swallowing patterns and the little coo sounds she made between gulps. “She’s just a… a…” Cordelia wracked her brain for the word Misty had used earlier, but though she had repeated it once, she couldn’t remember it. “…a  _ pain perdu _ ,” she finished. 

Drawn out of her anger by Cordelia’s epic fail at Cajun French, both of Misty’s eyebrows shot toward her hairline as she faced Cordelia. She poured two bowls of dry oats and added milk. “She’s a French toast?” 

Suffusing with color, Cordelia now remembered where she had learned those two words—on the menu of a breakfast cafe a few miles into the city where she and Hank had met.  _ I knew those words had to mean something. _ She had spent a lot of time, then, reading the menu to avoid eye contact with him in the hopes he would leave her alone. He never took the hint. Eventually, she had caved. “I don’t know any other words.” 

A smile cracked Misty’s countenance.  _ It worked! _ Cordelia wasn’t sure  _ how, _ seeing as her attempt had crashed and burned right on the surface of Misty’s culture, but indeed, she had managed to provoke a smile. “Ah,  _ cher _ .” She stuck the bowls of oatmeal in the microwave. “No, she’s a  _ putain _ , that’s all.” Her eyes softened from their sternness of before as she looked at Cordelia holding the baby. “You got her to quiet right up.”

“She must’ve been pretty hungry.”

“Well, yeah, given that she produced her own weight in  _ merde _ a few hours ago…”

“Now you’re doing it on purpose.”

The coy grin returned. Misty cocked her head so her hair fell just  _ so _ on her shoulders, cascading around her, and she flicked it a little. Eyes mesmerized, Cordelia couldn’t look away. “Some people think intermittent French is sexy.” Cordelia’s whole mouth dried up; her tongue became a sponge, leeching her of saliva.  _ Does she want me to think she’s sexy? _ Cordelia  _ did _ think so with no extra effort from Misty necessary, but she hadn’t a clue how to express it, or if Misty wanted it expressed or if those weren’t her intentions at all. Cordelia feared she would make Misty uncomfortable.

The microwave beeped. The sound startled Cordelia out of her reverie. She flinched and bounced the baby  _ hard, _ shaking the nipple from her mouth. Antoinette opened her mouth in a frustrated screech, and Cordelia fumbled with the bottle to try to give it back to her. Embarrassment pooled inside of her.  _ What am I doing? She doesn’t feel that way about me. She can’t. She’s being a good friend, that’s all. _ “You alright there?” Misty took the bowls out of the microwave and stirred each of them. 

Steam rose from the surface of the oatmeal. Cordelia nodded. “I—Yeah, yes, of course.” She wiped around her mouth with the back of her hand. Antoinette settled on the bottle again with a grumpy huff. Her hands reached up. One of them wrapped around Cordelia’s index finger as she fed her. “I just wasn’t expecting that—the noise, I mean, the microwave noise, the sound the microwave made, the, uh…” Cordelia drifted off, deciding it was best to keep from making a bigger fool of herself than she had already managed. 

“Do you want me to finish with her so you can eat?”

“Oh, no, no, you go ahead. This is fine. I’m not very hungry, anyway.” The shame of the morning had more than seen to that. She swayed from foot to foot, telling herself it was to keep Antoinette satisfied, when in reality, she struggled to settle inside of herself. 

Misty hovered beside her. She took the spoon out of the oatmeal and blew on it. “ _ C’est bête _ .” Holding up the spoon, she brought it to Cordelia’s lips. “You barely touched dinner last night. You must be starved.” Obediently, Cordelia opened her mouth, and Misty spoonfed the oatmeal to her. She closed her lips around the spoon. The strawberry-flavored mush coated her palate. When she tasted it, her hunger spiked inside of her; she realized how long it had been since she had eaten. “Good?” 

As she withdrew the spoon, Cordelia nodded. She swallowed. “Strawberries,” she blurted out. Misty tilted her head, giving her an odd look. “It’s strawberry flavored. Like your cream cheese.”

With a shrug, Misty’s smile didn’t abate. “I guess I like strawberries best out of anything.” She took another spoonful of the oatmeal and offered it to Cordelia. “Do you like strawberries?” 

“I do now.” Cordelia received the spoon more readily this time.  _ This is strange. _ She recognized it, but she didn’t know what to do about it, because—in all of its strangeness—she felt incredibly comfortable doing this with Misty, treating Misty this way and being treated in return. She enjoyed it, this intimacy. She had never shared anything like this with anyone before in her life. 

They proceeded until the bowl was almost empty and Antoinette finally detached herself from the nipple of the bottle at will. She sniffled and snorted and whimpered. “Oh, she’s gassy. Let me fix her. Maude had the same problem when she was a baby.” Cordelia passed the baby to Misty, and she patted her lower back firmly in a deep rhythm. She rocked back and forth in the air.

Picking up the second bowl of oatmeal, Cordelia smoothly traded places with Misty. She took the spoon into one shaky, sweaty hand and brought it to Misty’s mouth. Misty met her with a look of surprise, but she opened her mouth. A shadow crossed her face. Cordelia wanted to ask, but it passed before she had the chance. Taking great care, Cordelia dumped the oatmeal into Misty’s mouth. 

Queenie entered the kitchen. She paused in the doorway. “What in the  _ hell _ did I just walk into?” She put her hands on her hips and grimaced at them with disapproval. Shame burst through Cordelia’s stomach. She felt like teenager caught kissing a girl by a homophobic parent. 

Misty covered her mouth to chew and swallow the oatmeal. “It’s called  _ coparenting. _ You should try it sometime.” 

Queenie took a banana from the countertop. “Neither one of y’all is a parent, unless you’re planning on adopting that thing, in which case we will all want advanced notice so we can commit suicide and die with dignity.” When her back was turned, Misty held up one hand and made talking motions with her hand, moving her mouth and rolling her eyes. “I saw that, flower girl.” Cordelia chuckled at the sheepish eye contact Misty made with her. 

As Queenie left the room, Cordelia held up another spoonful of oatmeal up to Misty, who resumed soothing the fussy baby. Misty’s eyes sparkled when she looked at her.  _ I like the way she looks at me. _ “You’re funny.”

“I’m funny right now. Queenie always gets her revenge.” 

When she took the bite of oatmeal, Cordelia reached for another. “What do you expect she’ll do?” 

“Well, if she were Madison, she’d find a way to slip me a laxative, or she’d put Nair in my shampoo, or she’d burn cigarette holes in my favorite clothes… All things Maddie has done, by the way.” Cordelia raised her eyebrows. She knew Madison and Misty had a tenuous relationship aggressively based in both friendship and enmity, but some of those things sounded rather extreme, even for Madison. “But she’s not Madison. Queenie will probably just wait for the opportunity to step under hot water and burn me or something tame like that.” Antoinette belched, and her little whimpers quieted. Her round blue eyes surveyed the room around her attentively. “Little  _ bébé _ ,” Misty cooed at her. “Trade you.” 

She exchanged the baby for the bowl of oatmeal. Cordelia bounced her a little. The tiny fist caught on her necklace. “Have you heard from your sister?” 

“Are you eager to get rid of her, too?” 

Cordelia ducked her head. “Not a bit.” Taking care of the baby would get old eventually, sooner rather than later she assumed, but she relished in all of the time she got to spend with Misty like this. 

“No, I haven’t. I got a text overnight. Just said  _ hope all is going well. _ I texted back but no response.” 

Frowning, Cordelia’s eyes narrowed as Misty ate. “How… I don’t mean this offensively, but how did she know you were alive? Or that you were here?” 

Misty shrugged. “Lucky guess?” She scraped the bottom of the bowl clean and went to wash the dishes. “You’re not exactly keeping a low profile. We’re a big deal now. She probably saw the news and assumed I found my way here.” 

Cordelia’s heart skipped a beat when Misty spoke these words; guilt stabbed at her as she proffered her next question. “If they know you’re here, do you think—I mean, is there any possibility you could be in danger? Is that something you’re afraid of?” 

A deep quirk appeared between Misty’s brows. “Well, it is  _ now. _ ” Cordelia winced, and she opened her mouth to apologize, but Misty waved her off. “No, no, I’m teasing you. You look like an animal caught in a trap.” She cleared her throat. Washing off the dishes, she loaded the dishwasher. It was already mostly full. She took a detergent pod from under the sink and inserted it. “If they cared enough, they’d have already showed up on the front step.” Misty’s eyes were downcast as she spoke. “They’re not stupid enough to try anything against a whole coven. We’re too strong for them, all of us put together. Took twelve of them to take me out the first time. They wouldn’t go in to fight a losing battle.” 

_ Twelve of them? _ Cordelia wanted to ask.  _ Twelve? Give me their names. _ Misty was extraordinary—she had already known it—and a witch in peril could become a dangerous force to be reckoned with. But  _ twelve _ was impressive, both because it had taken so many men to incapacitate Misty and because so many men would agree to tear an innocent woman from her bed while she slept and murder her. “You’re not scared at all of what could happen if you welcome them back into your life?” 

A shadow crossed Misty’s face, and this time, it didn’t fade when Cordelia saw it. “I can’t live the rest of my life waiting for people to hurt me. It’s not fair to my siblings, to cut them off because the rest of our family is a bunch of coonasses.” 

“Isn’t that an offensive word?”

“Aren’t they offensive people?” 

“Touche.” Cordelia kept her eyes fixed on Misty where she turned, her back to the counter and eyes downcast to the kitchen floor. “Aren’t you worried they might have grown up to—to agree with your parents? Your siblings, I mean.” Hate could poison a child’s mind; Cordelia had learned this firsthand. However a parent reared the child pursued them for life, whether nourished on bigotry, self-loathing, or acceptance.

Misty’s lips pressed into a thin line. “It’s possible…” She shifted her jaw. “Anything is possible. But I can’t waste my time worrying about it. I’m babysitting my sister’s daughter. I’m not exactly showing up to the church potluck with my defenses down. And if Maude has the sense God gave a horsefly, she won’t mention my name to Mama and Daddy or anybody else from that side of the state.” 

Unwrapping the chain of the necklace from around Antoinette’s fist, Cordelia didn’t make eye contact with Misty as she asked, “What do you hope will happen?”

An ambivalent sigh passed from Misty’s lips. Tension filled the air. “I don’t know,” she admitted in a quiet voice. Cordelia could offer nothing else, so she offered her silence and waited for Misty to fill it. “I’m never going to be stupid enough to go back to them on their turf, none of them. I know I’m going to be the black sheep, regardless. Whatever they do, they’re on thin ice.” Misty sucked on the inside of her cheek. “I’m a little pissed that Maude waited this long. Until she  _ needed _ something. She didn’t care to look for me until she needed me. Maybe I was so irrelevant to their lives, they didn’t even bother to think about me.” The dimple in the side of her cheek deepened as she chewed on it. “I haven’t decided yet if knowing this is better than thinking I was completely forgotten.” 

_ I know how that feels.  _ Cordelia had a lot of experience with unloving family members. Antoinette suckled on her index finger. It was strange, but she didn’t pull away. “Misty, I—I know quite a bit about uncaring family. I don’t think you should waste your time worrying about them. It isn’t fair to you. You’re too marvelous of a person to be caught up on them.” 

“Do you think it’s wrong that I’m letting them come back on their terms?”

“Why would that be wrong?”

Misty shrugged. “I was the one they drove off—well, not my siblings, but they didn’t exactly make a big show of trying to save my ass, either. Didn’t come after me, didn’t look for me. Shouldn’t I be the one deciding the terms of all this?” 

“Aren’t you?” Misty looked at her in question. “Maude came to you and asked for help, but you could’ve said no. You could’ve told her off or hurt her, and it would’ve been excusable.”  _ If Fiona had shown up on my doorstep and asked me to take care of another baby for her, I would’ve told her to go fuck herself. _ Cordelia wanted to say this, but she feared Misty would call her out on being far too softhearted to ever truly do such a thing. “You didn’t. You decided to help her. How else would it be on your terms? Without doing anything violent or dangerous, that is.” Misty pressed her lips firmly together, giving another wayward shrug. She held a million thoughts in her eyes. “Are you regretting that you said yes?” 

She licked her lips. “I am becoming acutely aware of the fact that I have six younger siblings, who I raised, and I’m the only gay person among them, which means they’re all going to have breeding potential, and it’s a pretty common trend in my family to start young and go big.” She lifted her eyes to Cordelia. “If I am on good terms with any of them, I have just initiated a horrible, horrible precedent of being an unpaid babysitter for their children, of which they will almost certainly have  _ multitudes _ , and I decided after Marcelie was born that I wasn’t raising any more children for anybody.”

Misty had just come out to Cordelia in the most unobtrusive way possible. Sure, yesterday, she had made her derogatory comment about being touched by a man…  _ I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. _ Cordelia wanted to acknowledge it, but she wasn’t sure  _ how _ , especially since Misty kept on talking about her heterosexual family members’ propensity to reproduce. “So start saying no.”

“Oh, I can’t start saying no—that’s not how siblings work. They’ll  _ all _ see that I said yes to Maude, and it will start an avalanche of—of—” Misty paused, trying to think of the right words, and her voice climbed up the octave as she mimicked the voices of other people talking to her. “ _ Oh, Misty watched Antoinette for free for almost a week, it won’t be a big deal if I leave my kid with her for dinner _ , and then I say no, and then it’s  _ Why not? Don’t you love us all the same? Do you love Maude more than me? Oh my god, I always knew you were a monster. _ ”

Cordelia snorted. “I think you’re blowing that a little out of proportion.” 

“I once split a chocolate chip cookie  _ four ways, _ and when the other two got home from school, I got to hear about how upset they were that they didn’t get a piece.” 

“Well, they were kids then, weren’t they?”

“The oldest one was sixteen.” Misty held deadpan eye contact with Cordelia. “If Maude  _ does _ go back to our family and  _ does _ tell them all that she had a baby out of wedlock after she ran away from home at seventeen, they’re going to want to know where the baby is. Whether or not she’ll be honest determines whether or not I’m going to be fielding calls to be a babysitter for the  _ rest of my life. _ If I say no, I’ll always be the bad older sister who loved Maude’s baby more. And if I say yes, I’ll be burned at the stake a second time for causing grievous harm to other witches per coven law.” 

“No one’s going to burn you at the stake,” Cordelia reassured.

Misty cocked an eyebrow. “If you talk to Madison, Queenie, or Zoe, I’m sure they would disagree with you.” Cordelia nibbled on her lower lip. “I guess I just—I thought I was  _ done, _ finally, when everything happened. I was going to stay long enough for Marcelie to graduate, since she still needed somebody and she didn’t deserve to be hung out to dry just because she was the youngest. Momma was still using, in and out of rehab, and Daddy was blowing his time at church. I thought it was more than fair to wait until she had graduated to move on.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the countertop, bumping the drawer with her hip so the silverware inside of it rattled. “But then everything happened—I mean, she was only fourteen, but it wasn’t like I could  _ go back _ . I thought I was done. It was such a relief to know,  _ finally _ , I didn’t have to be the responsible person anymore. I didn’t have anyone relying on me but myself.”

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I came here. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I know I’m important here, or whatever, but… This is a place designed special to  _ protect _ me, and women like me. I thought this was, like, positive karma. I did enough good deeds and finally found a place where I’m safe, not where I’m responsible for protecting six other people when I’m just a kid myself and I’m failing everywhere and still getting blamed for it.” Antoinette had quieted her sucking, having fallen asleep in Cordelia’s arms. “And now, here I am, thinking I finally earned my freedom from raising children—which, honestly, I’m pretty surprised  _ isn’t _ my personal hell… And I’m starting all over again.” Misty spun a long lock of blonde hair around her index finger, pulling on it and releasing and then spiraling it around her digit again. 

Shuffling the baby’s weight from one arm to the other, Cordelia reached out to keep her from tugging on her hair. “Hey.” She smoothed her hand down Misty’s curls and brushed the back of her hand down, away from her face. “You don’t  _ owe  _ them anything. You know that, right?” Quizzical eyes found her, and Cordelia realized Misty didn’t understand what she meant. “They were  _ lucky _ to have you when they were kids. They weren’t your responsibility then. And they’re definitely not your responsibility now. It isn’t your job to take care of them. At some point, they have to start sleeping in the beds they made.” 

Misty studied Cordelia’s face. “If I had been able to start them off with a brand new mattress and luxury sheets, I could accept that… But they weren’t even given a bed to make. An older sister is—is a  _ really _ shitty replacement mom. I did my best, but that was never good enough. It was never what they deserved.”

“What did you deserve?” A quirk crossed Misty’s face. “You deserved a normal, stable family, too. You deserved to be able to live your life without being someone else’s parent. You became what you are in spite of it. If they have anything negative to say to you about a shitty situation someone else put them in, that’s on them. They’re adults now. It’s their job to grow up and act like it. You can’t do that for them.” 

“I know I can’t. Clearly, Maude is off to a great start.” Misty rolled her eyes. 

“Is she the oldest after you?”

Misty shook her head. “No. Mitchell… he’s twenty-two now. No, twenty-three. But he’s a boy, so I don’t think I’ll be expected to pick up babysitting. That’ll fall to the mother, whoever she is. Unless she’s completely inadequate. She might be. I was seven when he was born, so he got dropped a lot. Feel like his intellect was impacted. Or it might’ve been Momma’s drug use. Who’s to say? Anyway, he’s not the sharpest tool in the shed. I can’t imagine him picking a really great life partner.” Misty fanned herself with one hand. “This is kinda making my blood pressure go up, just thinking about it.” 

Cordelia touched the side of her face. “Then stop thinking about it.” Misty’s skin was smooth and warm beneath her palm. She admired it. “None of that is going to happen today, or tomorrow, or next week. Don’t torture yourself.” She used her hand to pull Misty’s hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ears. Her jaw shifted back and forth with anxiety. “You’ve got a lot of anxiety based on something that might not even happen. Today, you’ve got one baby to take care of, and your sister is going to come get her and then you’ll have  _ no _ babies to take care of.”

Misty released a pent-up breath. “I know. I know, you’re right, I need to stop ruminating and just calm down. No one manages to make me an anxious mess quite like my family.” 

“I know that feeling.” 

Misty chuckled. Her hand grazed Cordelia’s waist again, using her hip to tug her nearer. “I appreciate your help” She pecked Cordelia on her cheek. Blush rushed to the surface of her skin. “ _ Merci, _ ” she whispered into the auricle of Cordelia’s ear. She walked away from Cordelia, leaving her fixed to the spot with her mouth hanging open and her cheek tingling where Misty’s lips had brushed it.

Her voice rose up in her throat. Part of her wanted to stifle it, but she didn’t have the strength; too much boiled inside of her to rein it in. “Misty—”

Looking back at her, Misty placed her hands on her hips. “Hm?”

A dry tongue dashed across Cordelia’s lips. “I—I do think that. About your French. That it’s—it’s impressive.” 

The tips of her ears burned, and so did her whole neck. She pressed the back of her own hand to her cheek, wiping away the perspiration erupting on her brow at the sudden admission. “I didn’t say people think it’s impressive,” Misty purred. The low note to her voice sent Cordelia weak at the knees. If it weren’t for the baby in her arms, she would have swooned, but instead, she gripped Antoinette a little tighter, trying to ground herself in the moment. “I said they think it’s sexy.” 

Her heart thundered in her chest. All of the blood rushed to her ears as she struggled to hear her own voice. It touched the air anyway. “Maybe—Maybe what I’m trying to say is I think that, too.” 

“ _ Is _ that what you’re trying to say?” 

Throat closing up, Cordelia squeaked, “Yes.” 

A broad smile broke across Misty’s face. A joy as pure and holy as sunlight galloped forth from between her teeth. She tilted her head, and her hair fell in that way again. Then, she laughed. It was a sweet sound. “You’re very sweet, Miss Cordelia.” As she sashayed away, Cordelia’s eyes fixed upon her hips. “Let’s put her down for a nap. I’ll watch her. You have Supreme things to do.” 

Cordelia did have Supreme things to do. She would have traded any of them for the opportunity to spend the day with Misty… but that wasn’t an option. So, reluctantly, she followed Misty to the staircase, wondering if her admission had made any difference at all.

…

That night, Cordelia folded herself into bed beside Misty, who stared down at her cell phone. Misty’s flannel pajamas covered her figure; Cordelia felt rather naked in her thin pink nighty. She covered her legs with the blankets. “Have you heard from Maude?” she asked, almost afraid to break the silence. 

Misty scooted nearer to her to share the blankets, helping smooth them across Cordelia’s lap. “I texted her to ask when she’d be coming back for Antoinette. She left me on read.” 

Cordelia’s face gnarled. “She knows we’re watching her  _ child _ , right? Doesn’t she care about what’s going on here?” 

A light chuckle floated from Misty’s mouth, and she put her phone face-down on the bed. “Either she doesn’t give a shit or she trusts me enough to figure things out.” She muffled a yawn with her hand. “But what I’m figuring out is that if she doesn’t show in the next day or two, we’re going to be out of formula, and if I have to buy some of that expensive shit, I’m sending her an itemized bill. Diapers, too.”

A hesitant hand reached across the thin space between them. It rested on Misty’s knee on top of the covers. “I’m proud of you. Standing up for yourself.” Those were words Cordelia had wanted to hear her whole life—that someone was  _ proud of her _ , that she had _ stood up for herself _ . She could offer those words to Misty now.

With a scoff, Misty shook her head. “I could never actually do it. But I would really want to.” The warmth of her body met Cordelia’s hand through the blankets. Misty placed her hand on top of Cordelia’s. Misty had broad palms and long, spidery fingers with weathered hands and prominent veins and knuckles, a worker’s hands; they made Cordelia’s soft, womanly hands appear more effeminate in the dim light of the bedroom. “Thank you. You’re being awful good to me.” Cordelia’s eyelashes fluttered. “How was your office work?”

“Duller than ever.” Cordelia wanted to flip her hand over, to meet Misty palm to palm, but she feared it would disturb Misty and cause her to take her hand away. “I missed being with you.” Her heart picked up again as she admitted it.

Scanning Misty’s face, she gauged her reaction. Blue eyes met hers. “I missed you, too.” A tiny smile leaked into her dimples. She squeezed the top of Cordelia’s hand, and with this invitation, Cordelia flipped her hand over to press her sweaty palm against Misty’s. Misty’s calloused thumb traced a pattern on the side of her hand. She checked the time on her phone. “I’m going to try to get some rest before the creature awakens.”

“I can take her tonight.”

“You did last night. It’s my turn.” Misty hooked her phone to the charger. Cordelia’s hand regretted the absence of its partner.  _ What am I doing? What are we doing?  _ She felt Misty was sending her signals, but she couldn’t be completely sure. It was equally possible Misty was just testing her or teasing her; in fact, it was probably more likely. Someone like Misty could  _ never _ be genuinely attracted to someone like her. Misty could score someone much younger and much less damaged with much less baggage. In fact, Misty would  _ deserve _ someone younger and less damaged than Cordelia. It would be selfish of her to take Misty as her partner—she convinced herself of it. 

Misty rolled onto her abdomen and turned off her lamp. Cordelia reached to turn out her own. “Oh, no, that doesn’t bother me if you want to read or something.”

Cordelia shook her head. “No, I—I probably should get some sleep, too.” She doubted she would be able to sleep very much at all, but she had to at least try, and she owed Misty a dark room to sleep in, if nothing else. With a flick of the switch, the room descended into darkness. Across the room, the sound of the baby’s heavy breaths distrubed the silence. “Goodnight.” She leaned back, settling on top of her pillows. 

“Goodnight, darling.”  _ Darling? _ Cordelia wanted to ask her a question. She didn’t know how. She didn’t know what she wanted to ask. She didn’t know how to phrase the question, and she didn’t know if she  _ actually _ wanted to know the answer, because the  _ hope… _ The hope gave her strength, kept her bright. She enjoyed it, however fleeting. 

Most of Cordelia’s pleasures in life had been fleeting, and she had learned how to savor them, this one included. 

Lying on her back, she closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath. Misty warmed the space in the bed beside her.  _ I hope she stays forever. _ What excuse could she use once Maude picked up the baby? Cordelia had missed sharing a bed with someone for so long, and Misty’s tender presence was a stark contrast from trying to sleep beside a man with untreated sleep apnea whose snores could shake the foundation of the house. Perhaps she could ask nicely, and Misty would agree to share with her on some nights, maybe just the extra lonely nights, until Misty found a girlfriend. (Oh, a girlfriend, the idea of Misty finding a girlfriend made Cordelia  _ smolder _ with jealousy.) Misty was generous. But what if it made her uncomfortable?  _ I could tell her I need to repurpose her room for awhile… Offer to let her stay with me… _ She didn’t dare lie to Misty, not for something so selfish. She was selfish for considering any of this, she knew. Her stomach churned with guilt. 

Rolling onto her side, Cordelia faced Misty’s body, whose back was toward her. She watched the rise-fall of Misty’s side, her every breath. The flannel pajamas betrayed nothing of her body.  _ I want to see more of her. _ Cordelia’s eyes burned at the lustful thought. She had no right to think of Misty that way.

For as long as she had been with Hank, she had _ never _ had a thought about him like that. Not once, not while they were dating, not while they were engaged, not while they were married. 

Until this moment, it had never even struck her as odd. 

Though she didn’t expect it, Cordelia fell asleep the instant her eyes slipped closed, and she found dreamless, peaceful rest until Antoinette’s cry shrilled through the room. 

“Mm…” At the sound, she inhaled deeply through her nose. Her cheek was pressed up against a firm, warm surface, and her arm had draped itself around the lean curves of a body. Misty’s scent washed over her.  _ Oh, dear god. _ She gulped at the realization she had gravitated toward Misty in her sleep. Her eyes flicked open, lifting to Misty’s face, where she had only just begun to stir at the sound of the crying baby.

Misty had rolled onto her back, and she wrapped an arm around Cordelia’s shoulders as Cordelia clutched her torso. Her rumpled hair framed her head on the pillow. “Hm…?” As Misty awoke, Cordelia closed her eyes tight and lay very, very still. 

Playing possum seemed to be the safest way to escape this and any of its consequences.

Careful to measure her breathing, Cordelia listened as Misty uttered a long groan. She stirred. “Oh, shit,” Misty whispered. “Don’t wanna wake her up…” Misty lifted her arm and eased it from Cordelia’s shoulders. “She’s too cute to wake up. Damn baby.” Caution shivered through Misty’s body as she shifted Cordelia from on top of her, extricating herself from beneath her. “There you go, darling.” She replaced her own chest with a pillow and pressed a kiss to Cordelia’s temple.  _ Darling. _ The word repeated itself in Cordelia’s mind over and over. 

She knew she needed to sleep, but she listened to Misty as she tiptoed across the floor and lifted Antoinette from the bassinet. “Hush, hush, baby, we don’t want to wake  _ Tante _ Delia, do we?  _ Non, _ we don’t…” The baby’s cries grew more desperate. “Now, now, we don’t need that.  _ Quoi ca die? _ ” Misty’s low voice attempted to soothe her. “Your diaper is clean… Are you hungry?  _ Pauvre bête,  _ let’s mix you up some formula. Come with me, we’ll go hide in the bathroom until you quiet down some.” 

Cordelia listened as Misty carried the baby across the room into the bathroom and then closed the door. The door muffled but did not silence the baby’s cries. The water ran as Misty mixed the formula, Cordelia assumed. 

Antoinette didn’t stop wailing. Brief breaks only indicated when she paused to suck in another deep breath before pouring into another blood-curdling shriek.  _ Maybe I should get up to help. _ Cordelia waited in bed. The bathroom door opened. “Yes, yes, I see, you’re not hungry… We’re going to check your little fingers and toes for a hair, yes, we are, that’s what we’re going to do.”  _ For a hair? _ Misty turned on the floor lamp and pulled up a chair beneath it; its legs scraped the floor audibly. “Let’s put us in my lap, little one, and spread out our little fingers.” The baby screamed more incessantly as Misty scrutinized her digits. “If we don’t hold still, I won’t be able to find the hair tourniquet, no, I won’t.” 

Across the room, Misty’s phone detached from the charger with her telekinesis, and it whizzed toward her. She caught it. “Here’s the flashlight. Let me look at these fingers and toes. Stop wiggling, you little cretin.  _ Arête ca! _ ” Cordelia licked her lips at the sound of Misty’s struggle. She rolled over in the bed and lifted her head, but Misty didn’t notice her movement, intently focused on the baby in her lap. She bounced her legs slightly to try to pacify the screeching infant. The flashlight from her phone pointed at one of her hands. “Not this hand. Let’s try this one… Aha.” 

Shifting Antoinette in her lap, Misty lifted up one hand, and from the baby’s tiny ring finger, she snapped something off. “There we are, there we are. No more loss of circulation. Little girl will be all fine again soon, she’s not losing her finger…” She massaged the digit to try to alleviate the pain. Antoinette quieted a little, still fussing and whining, and Misty cradled her and offered her the bottle of formula again. “Let’s try this now. Are we hungry,  _ petit cochon? _ ”

The baby gave a few halfhearted suckles, but after a few gulps, she rejected the nipple and cried again. “Oh, I know, I know. It was so stressful, having that thing wrapped around your finger…” Misty held her on her shoulder and patted her back. “Shush, shush.”

_ Shush, shush, _ didn’t work, nor did an assortment of crooned half-lullabies. “Hush, little baby,” Misty didn’t even get all the way through before Antoinette screamed so loud she droned out her voice. “Oh, dear,” Misty muttered between Antoinette’s breaths. “No, no, honey, listen… Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me—” Antoinette shrilled another agonizing note. “Wow, we don’t even like Jesus tonight, huh?” 

Cordelia couldn’t tear her eyes away, though she  _ knew _ she should get up to help Misty with the baby, if only to provide some moral support—if Misty couldn’t console the baby, Cordelia doubted she could do any good. She watched as Misty worked through a litany of songs and crooned lullabies. She tried Fleetwood Mac  _ several times, _ ending in an exasperated mumble of, “We do _ not _ have the same taste in music.” 

Misty bounced the baby in her arms. “ _ Galine, galine, galine, galo… _ ” Her low voice lilted over the notes.  _ What does that mean? _ “ _ Galine, galine, galo _ .” Antoinette quieted some. Her whimpers still twisted under Misty’s voice, but she listened intently, just like Cordelia, who propped herself up slightly on the pillows to watch as Misty bounced her. The floor lamp cast Misty in an odd yellow light, reflecting the pattern of her hair in the window behind her. Her phone rested off to the side where she had discarded it in favor of occupying the infant. “ _ Galo, galo, mon petit bébé. Galo, galo, tu vas dormir. Galine, galine, galo… _ ” 

The words drifted off. As soon as they stopped, Antoinette drank in another breath and rattled the walls with her cry. Misty winced. She shook herself, rattled by the screaming, and she tried again. “ _ Dors, dors, p’tit bébé… _ ” Antoinette quieted, but so did Misty. “Shit, what are the words to that one?” With the pause in her song, the baby shrilled another cry. “Okay, okay!  _ Dors, dors, p’tit bébé, ‘coutes la riviére, ‘coutes la riviére. Dors, dors, p’tit bébé, ‘coutes la riviére, couler. _ ” Misty cleared her throat, her voice choking dry. “ _ Dors, dors, mon bel enfant. ‘Coutes les oiseaux, ‘coutes les oiseaux. Dors, dors, mon bel enfant. ‘Coutes les oiseaux, chanter. _ ”

The French lullabies captivated Cordelia; she wished Misty would sing her lullabies. Antoinette, however, was not so easily impressed. She thrashed her tiny fists when Misty stopped singing. “Oh,  _ bon dieu, _ what do you want from me? Those are  _ all _ the lullabies I know! You don’t want any of them.” Misty’s voice was as affectionate as ever, tone mild and loving in spite of the frustration and exhausting wrinkling around her eyes. “You’re gonna make me do it, aren’t you?” Antoinette sniveled and pitched her limbs. “I’m gonna have to do it.”

Misty cleared her throat.  _ Do what? _ Cordelia wondered, almost apprehensive. Misty sighed. Then, she began to sing again. “Mr. Sandman… Bring me a dream.” Cordelia smiled at the cheesy song. “Make her the cutest that I’ve ever seen. Give her two lips like roses and clover, and tell her that her lonesome nights are over.” Again, Antoinette quieted. Her little whimpers softened to listen. “Mr. Sandman… I’m so alone. Don’t got nobody to call my own. So please turn on your magic beam. Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.” 

As Misty sang, Cordelia folded the blankets back and slid out of the bed, landing on cats’ feet. “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream… Give her a pair of eyes with a come-hither gleam. Give her a lonely heart like Pagliacchi…” She trailed off. Cordelia tiptoed across the floor, careful not to make a noise to disturb Misty or the baby. “Um… Er…” Misty lost the next line of the song. “Shit. Give her a lonely heart, like Pagliacchi—” Antoinette made a few more distressed sounds at Misty’s sudden halt.

One of Cordelia’s hands extended, grabbing a handful of her bedhead and singing, “And lots of wavy hair like Liberace.” Misty glanced back at her, an expression of desperation crossing her face. Cordelia brushed her hair out of her face with one hand, smiling down at her. “What’s up?”

“We can’t stop singing, she’ll start—” Antoinette’s whimpers began again, growing as she fidgeted in frustration that the sound had vanished. Her mouth opened into a wide O and she howled through it like a wolf, her arms and legs flailing. “—screaming,” Misty whispered. “Mr. Sandman…”

Cordelia joined in as Misty started the song over again. She knelt over Misty’s shoulder, her hand still collecting in the thick, loose curls of hair. Her hand absently pawed through the locks. Fingernails absently scraped against Misty’s scalp without much thought, but as the song drifted to its conclusion, she tilted her head back to make eye contact with Cordelia. “You sure can’t keep your hands to yourself.” The susurration carried a purr. Heart skipping a beat, Cordelia began to withdraw her hand, but Misty stopped her. “No, no. I like it.” 

Her tense hand gradually relaxed back into the mess of Misty’s hair. “Is she asleep?”

Antoinette’s body had gone still, her eyes closed. “I think so.” Misty stood cautiously from the chair. Cordelia’s hand eased through her hair to let her walk across the floor to the Pack ‘N Play. “Here we go…” She bent over, lowering the infant into the bassinet. Her hands placed her down butt-first, laying her on her back. Both Misty and Cordelia held their breaths. Four eyes fixed upon her as Misty withdrew her second hand, placing her head on the mattress. 

Her face turned. She screamed. “Goddammit! Mr. Sandman… Bring me a dream.” Misty placed a hand on her chest, shushing her as she sang. 

_ I might be able to make this easier. _ Cordelia held out her hand and summoned her phone from where it was charging beside her bed. She opened up her phone with her fingerprint and opened up YouTube. With a search, she found a video of the Chordettes and opened it. Misty’s voice drifted off as the quartet sang their tune. Antoinette’s anger quelled. As she settled, Misty lifted her hand. “You got that thing on a loop?”

Cordelia nodded. “You bet I do.” She placed the phone face-down beside the bassinet. Misty stood up straight. As she arched her back, it popped. Cordelia extended a hand to her, hovering above the small of her back, afraid to bridge the gap.  _ Just do it. _ She did, pressing her hand there. “Did you do this to yourself?” she asked teasingly. 

An equally teasing smile brushed Misty’s lips. “Nah. It was my sister. I’m just a victim.” Her face drew nearer to Cordelia’s. Eyes darting down to her lips and then back up to her eyes, she shifted her feet, facing Cordelia directly. She held Cordelia at arm’s length. The music continued lulling behind them; the song cycled toward its end and then opened with the chiming sequence again. Misty tilted her head. Her messy hair hung in clumps with it.  _ She’s beautiful. _ Those flannel pajamas did nothing to detract from her beauty. “Since we’ve got the music… Can I have this dance?”

Cordelia beamed. “You can.” Misty held out her hand. Cordelia placed her hand in her palm. Taking a few steps away from the bassinet, Misty led her onto an open expanse of hardwood floor. Cordelia faced Misty. Their bare feet warmed the wood beneath them. “This isn’t exactly dancing music,” she remarked. But she put one hand on Misty’s shoulder, the other still clasped in her hand. 

Misty mirrored her, placing one hand on Cordelia’s waist. “We can make it work, I think.” Her hand tugged Cordelia closer to her. She led into the dance with one step, and Cordelia followed. The yellow light cast long shadows across Misty’s face, exacerbating her strong cheekbones. Lifting her hand from Misty’s shoulder, Cordelia brushed her hair from her shoulder and tucked it behind her ear. Misty grinned, leaning into the caress of Cordelia’s hand. “Ain’t you the sweetest praline I’ve ever laid eyes on?” 

Melting with pleasure, Cordelia ducked her head. She rested her hand back on Misty’s shoulder. “I didn’t think of you as the dancing type.” 

“I got pretty good at square dancing, but that’s all. This is kinda out of character for me.” 

“Then why’d you ask?”

“For the pleasure of your smile.” 

Cordelia ducked her head. “Misty… what are we doing?” Her feet followed Misty’s, shuffling along with the quartet which absolutely did not provide a decent beat for them to sway to. She swayed anyway. 

The hand on her waist grazed upward. “We’re dancing, aren’t we?” 

Licking her lips, Cordelia tilted her head. “Yeah…” She looked at Misty’s mouth. “Are we doing more than dancing?” 

“Do you want us to be doing more than dancing?”

“Do  _ you _ want us to be doing more than dancing?” Cordelia countered. 

Misty frowned, narrowing her eyes. “What do you mean? I’ve been flirting with you harder than a woodpecker drilling a hole.” Cordelia’s eyes widened. “No, no, not that I—I mean, I don’t  _ expect  _ anything, it’s just that I thought maybe you deserve something else. And maybe I do, too.” 

“So you  _ did _ want me to think the French was sexy?” Misty nodded, a somewhat skeptical, somewhat incredulous look upon her face. “I thought that was a strange thing for you to say, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by assuming the wrong thing.” 

“How many of your friends do what I’ve been doing?”

Cordelia shrugged. “I don’t—I don’t exactly have friends,” she admitted quietly. After college and after Hank, she had buried herself into the coven, and that meant isolating herself from anyone who might have ever appreciated her… not that there were many of those people in the first place. “You know self-esteem is not my strong suit.”

Holding out her arm, Misty spun Cordelia around, and her nighty flew up with the air. Cordelia’s clumsy feet twisted up in one another, but Misty caught her. “I know.” Grasping her like that, Cordelia braced herself against Misty’s strong arms, gazing up into her eyes. “Maybe I can help you change that… if that’s something you want.”

Cordelia’s tongue darted out across her lips. “It is.” The strangled sound pushed forward from her, a croak; her voice wanted to shrink away from Misty but also longed to come bursting forth from her. Misty leaned forward, lips puckered, and Cordelia rose to meet her, eagerly finding her balance once again. Her arms looped around Misty’s neck, bringing herself upright. 

Soft arms caressed Cordelia’s waist. Misty supported like a glass doll. She nuzzled into the kiss with a quiet, “Mm…” noise; the sound crackled in her throat.  _ This is really happening, _ Cordelia realized.  _ This is real. _ Misty’s wavy hair coiled beneath her hands. The hot breath from inside Misty’s body wafted across Cordelia’s face, into her mouth, drawing them closer together than ever before and making them one as Cordelia inhaled that same air. Misty broke the kiss. Hot pants exited from between her parted lips. Her face remained close to Cordelia’s as she leaned forward, bumping their foreheads and their noses. “You look so beautiful tonight.” Misty brushed Cordelia’s hair out of her face, tucking a lock behind her ear. 

“So do you.” Face calescent, Cordelia gazed into her eyes, the way her eyelashes flickered, the one on her cheek landing among her starry sky of freckles.  _ I need to say something more. _ The words weren’t coming to her; she could think of nothing else that needed to be said, nothing intelligent. The magnetizing pull on the sultry air between them filled her lungs. Gathering up Misty’s hair in her loose fists, Cordelia flung herself into the kiss again. Her open mouth met Misty’s.

Misty’s received it in turn. Her arms snaked around Cordelia’s back, hands hooking on her shoulders, and her strength pulled her closer. The Chordettes played in the background,  _ bum bum bum _ , each note echoing in Cordelia’s mind like she heard it underwater. Misty advanced upon her, and mirroring her in smooth moves like a dance, Cordelia allowed Misty to propel her backward. 

Her back struck the wall. The cold pressed through her sheer nightgown. She gasped at the chill, tilting her head back. Misty’s hands framed her face. Her tongue pressed into Cordelia’s mouth. Cordelia wrapped her mouth around it and sucked hard. Chills and heat alike rattled her. Her hands tightened in Misty’s hair, fingernails digging into her scalp, but Misty treated her like a treasure in spite of the husky grunts rising from her throat. She descended upon Cordelia’s neck, leaving her mouth vacant.  _ Oh, lord. _ Misty sucked on her pulse point. Her teeth raked down her neck. A sharp breath whistled through her nose and exited in a quiet, “Ah…” Misty bowed lower and lower to Cordelia’s collarbones. Her hands fled her face, working down her body. 

Massaging her shoulders, those calloused hands smoothed down the thin satin gown. Each hand caught a breast and pressed into them. Cordelia’s hips jerked. “Uh—” Thumbs extended, Misty found her nipples and rolled them. “Oh—” Her voice was but a whisper.  _ Are we about to have sex? _ Blood roared through her ears, an ocean, a thunderstorm. Was this what she wanted? Sex, right now? 

As if hearing her self-doubts, Misty slowed her ministrations across Cordelia’s collarbones. She rolled her thumbs over her nipples again, but her mouth lifted back up to Cordelia’s, kissing her sweetly. The pressure alleviated from her breasts. 

On a reflex, Cordelia caught her hands and pushed them there again. Navy eyes flicked to hers. Cordelia leaned into the kiss, and she reached for the buttons of Misty’s flannel top. Yes, this was what she wanted—sex,  _ right now, _ dammit. She had gone through a lifetime of denying herself. Misty was in front of her, was real, was hot and teeming with sensuous lust pouring from her skin, and Cordelia would be  _ damned _ if she ended this now when she wanted it. 

Nimble fingers undid all of the buttons down Misty’s top, pushing it open, and it hung that way as Misty pushed her back up against the wall. Her breasts flashed out. Cordelia’s hands landed on Misty’s bare waist. Misty sucked in a sharp breath. Her large, spidery hands scoured Cordelia’s torso, locking into another deep kiss with Cordelia.  _ Her hands, her hands… _ One climbed Cordelia’s front, flicking her nimble fingers against her nipple until it erected itself. The other slid down her side, down her hip, lower, lower. 

Misty’s right hand found the hem of Cordelia’s nighty and slipped beneath it. Caressing her lower thigh, the kiss broke. Cordelia desperately pursued it, but her dark eyes locked with Misty’s, waiting for some approval. She nodded. “Please—” Her voice quivered but did not falter. She refused to allow her nerves to steal this from her. Hot breath fanned across her face from between Misty’s parted lips. Cordelia latched onto her body with her hands, one hand beneath her ribcage feeling the swell of her breast, the other close to her hip. The roaming hand slid upward on the outside of Cordelia’s thigh, wandering from just above her knee upward, upward, upward to her hip. Braced against Misty’s body and the wall, Cordelia lifted up the leg in Misty’s grasp, pressing it against Misty’s hip. Her eyes flickered closed. She held tight to Misty’s body; she hadn’t been this vulnerable in so long. 

Tender fingers roamed from the outside of her hip. Following the brow of her thigh, she rolled the fatty tissue beneath her fingers, heading toward her inner thigh. Cordelia’s breath hitched. Misty’s index finger traced the hem of her panties. It coiled in her extraneous pubic hair where it protruded from them. Then, with her whole palm, she cupped Cordelia’s vulva, steaming and moist through the cotton. Cordelia uttered a soft cry, pressing her pubic bone firmly into her touch “Somebody’s a little eager, isn’t she?” Misty purred. 

That voice, that  _ low _ voice, caused every ounce of moisture in Cordelia’s mouth to dry. She nodded. “Take me.” Her hoarse voice emerged. Misty’s hand slipped away, allowing Cordelia’s gown to drift back down. She eased her leg down. Cordelia whined. “Misty,  _ please. _ ” 

“Are you sure that’s what you want?” The sex had left Misty’s voice; she was serious now, serious and open. 

“ _ Yes, _ ” said Cordelia emphatically. “A million times,  _ yes, _ that’s what I want—” She drew herself up, kissing Misty, wrapping her arms around her neck.

Misty spun her around to the tune of the Chordettes thumping along in the background. “And you’re not just thinking with your vagina right now?”

“I’ve never thought with my vagina before in my entire life.” Cordelia caught herself on Misty’s shoulders and braced against her, holding her at arm’s length. “Are  _ you _ sure?” she asked, gazing into Misty’s eyes in the dim lamplight. Was that holding Misty back? Her own uncertainties? She had focused on her own desires so much, she hadn’t thought to ask about what Misty wanted from this encounter. 

A lazy half-smirk covered Misty’s face. “I’m only sure of death and taxes, but this would be a close third.” Then, she tilted her head. “Unless I’m still legally dead. Then I don’t have to pay taxes.” 

Cordelia laughed. She lunged for Misty’s mouth again, and Misty captured her into the kiss. Rolling them both toward the bed, Misty led the way, pushing Cordelia down on top of the messy covers. She took Cordelia’s nighty by the hem and stripped it upward, off of her. Cordelia held up her arms and wriggled free. In a few short jerks, Misty had freed her of the sheer fabric, and she fell back onto the tangled blankets naked except for her panties. 

Shrugging out of the flannel top, Misty flung it off the side of the bed. She positioned over Cordelia’s body on her knees. All of the shadows fell over her lean, muscled figure. Cordelia’s hands reached for her bare breasts, cupping them as she descended upon Cordelia’s body. Open mouth, she received Misty’s tongue into hers. “Mm…” She grunted into Misty’s mouth. Calloused hands framed her face. Misty’s whole body pressed against hers, no support between them, but she had never felt safer, warmer, more comfortable. The deep pressure grounded her. Her muscles worked to expand and contract against Misty’s weight with every breath. 

Cradling hands pushed Cordelia’s hair back out of her eyes. Her lips shifted downward. The burning between Cordelia’s thighs ignited. She shifted her hips with a low gasp, trying to gain some friction against one of Misty’s flannel-clad legs. At the hopping around of her lower body, Misty chuckled. Dark chills pulsed through Cordelia’s body.  _ When her voice does that… _ When it went to its lowest pitch, she could not help but listen. Her vagina pulsed at the sound. “Somebody’s hasty.” Sliding down her body, Misty nibbled at her collarbones, careful not to leave a mark as her teeth scarcely glanced off of the sensitive skin of Cordelia’s upper body. She positioned herself between Cordelia’s legs. 

Unable to help herself, Cordelia hiked one of her legs up, tangling it in the neat blankets to keep it from sliding back down. One of Misty’s hands coasted down her abdomen to the junction between her thighs. Cordelia quavered as Misty cupped the warm section of her body through the fabric. “Ah— _ Ah! _ ” Misty ground her palm against her, providing some limited relief. “Oh, Jesus.” She licked her lips, tossing her head back. In the hopes of convincing Misty to remove her panties, she lifted her hips, but Misty wasn’t swayed. 

An earnest mouth closed around Cordelia’s left breast. Misty’s smooth lips rolled against her areola. Bumps of arousal drew to the surface.  _ Oh, lord. _ Twisting on the bed, Cordelia arched her back. “Oh!” Her chest heaved as she drank in a breath. The air filled with clarity. “Omf—” As she went to make another sound, Misty covered her mouth with one hand. 

“ _ Sh. _ ” Misty glanced back at the Pack ‘N Play. Above the sounds of the Chordettes, Antoinette’s little voice rose up, but after a few whimpers, she quieted back down. “If we wake her up, we will regret it.” Cordelia hooked her fingers under Misty’s pajama pants and loosened the drawstring to pull them down. “She  _ will _ cockblock us. Nobody cockblocks like a fussy baby.” Misty wasn’t wearing any underwear. Cordelia cupped her bare bottom, feeling the down layer of fuzz upon it. 

Cordelia tilted her head. “Clamjam?” she offered as an alternative. 

Misty snorted and shook her head. “Fine. Clamjam.” She kissed Cordelia on the lips. “Sh… Pretend there isn’t a noise-cancelling spell and you don’t want Madison to make fun of us tomorrow.” Cordelia nodded.

Hands resuming their positions, Cordelia focused on keeping her mouth closed and her tongue pressed up into its roof. She produced muffled sounds. Misty peppered kisses from her breasts down her ribcage. She bit the tender junction where each breast met the ribs beneath it, and then she slid down further, to the xiphoid process of her sternum, lower where no bones rested, only the squish of her pudgy abdomen. “Oo—” The nerves in Cordelia’s abdomen had her on edge, resisting the urge to giggle or shriek as Misty’s gentle ministrations tickled her. 

Sensing the muscle rigidity under her tongue, Misty let up, sliding down her abdomen to the underside of her abdomen, the few inches between her navel and her pubis. Cordelia lifted her hips upward, toward Misty’s face. Misty pulled her hand from Cordelia’s cotton-clad groin and hooked her fingers beneath the hem of her panties. Shuffling her weight, Cordelia helped as Misty plucked down the panties. Her heart leapt up into her throat. The heady aroma of her own heat rose up to her. Her cheeks flamed. 

Misty’s nose rolled through her garden of pubic hair. “You smell so good, darling.” That distinct purr entered her tone again. Shivers spiked through Cordelia’s body. She clamped her throat to keep from moaning aloud, just at the sound, and the insides of her thighs quivered as Misty’s breath pulsed across her wet labia. Two long fingers spread her labia apart, exposing all of her most delicate bits to the air. “I can’t wait to taste you.” 

A shudder shook Cordelia to her roots. As Misty’s mouth covered Cordelia’s vulva, Cordelia covered her mouth with her own hand, trying to muffle the, “Oh!” that emerged from her. She vibrated with tension. A wanton whimper sprang from her throat. One of Misty’s arms anchored Cordelia’s hips down to the bed, wrapping around her upper thigh. The other hand poised beneath Misty’s body, ready to act. As her tongue smoothed upward across her luscious inner labia, the flat of it pressing into her clitoris, Misty’s hand lingered just below Cordelia’s ass.  _ Careful, control it, _ Cordelia cautioned herself. She bit her own palm to quiet down as Misty lapped her clitoris, sending her writhing upon the bed. “Muh-More—”

The encouragement guided Misty, who smiled up at her with her eyes. Smoldering eyes narrowed, a furtive look, as Misty’s middle finger pressed up against the vestibule of Cordelia’s vagina. Red waves cascaded over her as it entered, stroking that  _ place _ inside of her. Restless, Cordelia’s hands fluttered down to Misty’s hair and tangled there, haphazard curls on edge. The flat of Misty’s tongue ground against her clitoris. Loose electric waves stripped her nerves of any inhibitions. “Oh, yes,” she whispered, fighting her penchant to cry out Misty’s name in pleasure. 

The finger inside of her curled as Misty’s tongue worked diligently, tracing from the bulb of her clitoris out to each crus, left and right, and back to the center. When she drew it out from under its sensitive hood, Cordelia’s throat curdled a groan she refused to relinquish. She couldn’t surrender this, not now, when Misty was knuckle-deep inside of her and their bodies joined together as one. 

Closing her eyes, Cordelia focused on the way the curls sprang under her fingertips. The platinum hair held its luster even in the dim illumination of the lamp light. She had never known such a texture before, the layers of hair coiling in her hands. Sensations inundated her. Her hips undulated at Misty’s movements, her dextrous flicking tongue, the way her middle finger pressed into her body and then withdrew and pressed in again, curling forward each time to massage that walnut-shell-textured place within her body. Cordelia’s nipples hardened and faced the ceiling. 

Little grunts wormed their way from her in spite of her resistance. “Muh-More—” she uttered again. “Give me more—” At the request, her body burned to accommodate Misty as she pushed her ring finger into her body, the two digits working in synchronization. The stretch stung for a moment but disappeared into pleasure. Misty’s wrist flexed, her two central fingers digging into Cordelia’s vagina and emerging coated in her cream. “Oh, yes—” Cordelia tugged on Misty’s hair, not hard enough to hurt, and she pressed her face deeper into her vulva. 

Misty did not complain about Cordelia’s movements, did not resist. Her thick tongue worked harder, faster, against the rising nub of Cordelia’s clitoris. Cordelia’s breath hitched. Her body twisted around Misty’s hand. Lubricant poured from her in strings of clear and white cream. Cordelia’s pelvis insisted against Misty’s face, but Misty paused, inhibiting her pleasure. She lifted her mouth from her vulva. Syrup coated her lips. “You’re delicious, darling.”  _ Darling. _ Chills tingled down Cordelia’s spine. Misty’s breath whistled through her pubic hair, feathers brushing her down there, tickling her. Her fingers curled forward. Cordelia’s breath hitched. “You’re so beautiful when you’re all needy… Are you close?”

Sparks danced behind Cordelia’s eyes, just out of reach. Her clitoris twitched from lack of stimulus,  _ pleading _ for Misty to resume her licking. “ _ Yes— _ Yes,” Cordelia followed up in a whisper, forgetting temporarily she had to keep her voice low. Misty paused, but Antoinette didn’t interrupt them. Misty lowered her face back into Cordelia’s meadow. As the tip of her tongue resumed its ministrations, Cordelia squirmed. Misty used her left arm to hold her pelvis down, fixing it to the mattress so she couldn’t escape with the quick bucks of her hips. Her two fingers buried deep inside of her and slid back out. The sensation, Misty  _ filling _ her, bringing them together as one… It set Cordelia’s whole body on edge. Her every synapse crackled with desire and need. 

Misty’s fingers beckoned her, a  _ come to hither _ motion, and as her fingertips massaged that sensitive place inside of her, Cordelia uttered a low, “Oh,  _ yes _ —”

The touch vanished—Cordelia perceived this first, and she opened her mouth to ask  _ why _ before she heard the baby shrieking. Shaking herself, Cordelia pushed herself up onto her elbows to watch Misty as she headed across the room to the bassinet. The light caught a thin sheen of sweat down her lower back. With the humidity of the exertion, her hair frizzed up. “Misty, you’re naked.” 

“And you’re loud. Your point?” Cordelia’s face flamed. Misty stooped over and picked up the baby, shushing her. “She’s not wet. She just missed us, that’s all. Let me settle her back down.” She did so, and Antoinette screeched. “I know, I know, the fourth trimester is a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad thing.” Misty sat down on the floor beside the bassinet to put a hand on her chest, shushing her. She turned up the Chordettes a little louder, as loud as they would go. 

Cordelia pinched her legs tighter together, sexual frustration stirring in her loins. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled. Misty had warned her. 

Antoinette slowly quieted back down, grumbling and grouchy. “I told you she would cockblock us.” Misty’s ass made a squelching sound as the damp skin pulled up from the hardwood floor. Her feet fell silently upon the floor as she approached. She slid back onto the bed beside Cordelia. “Let’s resume—” She went for Cordelia’s mouth. 

Placing a hand on her chest, Cordelia stopped her. “We shouldn’t. I’ll just wake her up again.” 

Misty grinned. “What if I keep you quiet? My mouth on yours… Oughta shut you right up.” Cordelia flamed. “Hm?” Preoccupied hands fidgeted with the edge of the blankets as Cordelia nodded, ashamed of herself—how pathetic was she, unable to control herself? She hadn’t had good sex since… Well, objectively, she hadn’t had  _ good _ sex since college. She had grown rather accustomed to Hank’s lackluster lovemaking skills. “I need to hear you say yes.” 

The dark voice drew her back out of her reverie. Cordelia flashed an embarrassed smile. “Yes.” She leaned toward Misty, nuzzling her for another kiss, and Misty provided it. 

A soft, “Oof,” floated from Cordelia’s mouth when her back hit the mattress again. Misty loomed over her, supporting herself with her left arm. Her right combed through the coarse copse of hair, spreading her labia before she slid her two digits inside again. Cordelia’s mouth opened. Misty caught her cry and swallowed it. 

Arms lifting, Cordelia looped them around Misty’s body, feeling the ridges of her back. Misty’s thumb struck her clitoris. She gasped. Her fingernails curled downward into Misty’s skin. Misty bit her lower lip, tweaking it between her teeth. The blackness behind Cordelia’s eyes exploded with fireworks of desire.  _ How? _ She was full, connected to Misty, electrified, hidden in this decadent haven.  _ Faster. _ As if reading her mind, Misty obeyed, their eyes locked together and unwavering. 

Her body seized. The orgasm swept her up into its hold. Cordelia squeezed her eyes closed tight. Her fingers curled, scratching down Misty’s back; her toes curled and caught up in the blankets, tangled and disheveled. Ecstasy consumed her. Lack of breath dizzied her. Her chest was too tight to breathe. Tiny tears squeezed from the corners of her eyes. Her body convulsed around Misty’s fingers. Her clitoris fluttered against the pad of Misty’s thumb. 

The pangs descended in waves, each tightening contraction growing weaker and weaker until finally she lay wasted beneath Misty’s still body. Misty’s mouth disconnected from hers, peppering light kisses down her jawline as Cordelia remembered how to breathe. Her fingers slipped from Cordelia’s vagina. She flinched at the sensation; she was so sensitive now, the slightest touch pained her. She shivered. The sweat on her body cooled rapidly, and goosebumps popped up to try to warm her. 

When the world no longer spiraled out of control, Cordelia opened her eyes, measuring her breaths. Misty made eye contact with her. Thick cream coated her two central fingers. She opened her mouth and slid them inside. She sucked them clean and removed them from her mouth with a  _ pop _ . Then, Misty took the blankets by the hem and drew them back over the two of them. “You alright?” 

Cordelia nodded, eagerly retreating beneath the blankets. “That was… the best orgasm I’ve ever had.” 

Misty grinned. “They say dykes do it better. But I feel like the bar was pretty low there.” 

Cordelia shook with quiet laughter. She rolled toward Misty, arms extended. “Let me.” She puckered her lips, and Misty pressed a kiss to her lips. “Let me…” Misty tried to brush her arms back down to her sides, but Cordelia resisted. She lifted her gaze up to Misty. The air clouded with the steam between their bodies. “Misty, what’s wrong? Why can’t I make love to you?” The fuzziness from her orgasm had begun to wear off, and as she studied Misty with clarity, she caught the uncertainty upon her face. 

Blue eyes found hers and then flicked away. “I—I have issues. Down there. It hurts.” Cordelia tilted her head. Misty’s eyes glimmered in an odd sheen with the lamplight. The yellow light obscured her blush, but Cordelia cupped her cheek, and the heat of embarrassment baked into her palm. “I can’t even—um, I can’t even wear a tampon. And it’s worse when I’m stressed out, like now.” 

_ You’re stressed out right now? _ Cordelia knew that wasn’t the point, so she bit her tongue to keep from questioning Misty. “That sounds like a problem… You should see a doctor.” 

“I have. It didn’t work out well for me.” Misty squeezed one of Cordelia’s hands, pushing it back down to her side, where it was safe. Cordelia pursed her lips. Did she want to accept this? “It’s easier if I don’t worry about myself. It makes me happy to take care of you.” 

Tiredness plucked at Cordelia’s eyelids, but she couldn’t forfeit so easily. She slid her hand from Misty’s cheek down her shoulder. “Let me just use my hand…”  _ What if I hurt her? _ “Show me what I can do.” She faced Misty, their noses almost touching. The blue eyes glimmered back to her, and for a moment, Cordelia thought Misty would refuse, but then Misty took her by the wrist. 

Keeping her hand neutral, Cordelia allowed Misty to manipulate her digits as her palm skidded down her sweaty abdomen into the untamed nest of pubic hair between Misty’s legs. Misty lifted her right leg to create a space between her thighs large enough for their hands to fit through, and she guided Cordelia’s hand there. Under Misty’s direction, Cordelia spread her outer labia with her index finger, and then Misty pressed the pad of her middle finger to the nub of her clitoris. 

A spasm passed through Misty’s body at the first contact. Her heavy eyelashes fluttered. She leaned toward Cordelia. Cordelia closed the gap, their cheeks and eyelashes brushing, mouths side by side. She consumed Misty’s mouth with her own, a small, soft kiss, tender in its own way. Her finger rolled in slow, loose circles around Misty’s clitoris. She didn’t apply too much pressure, and her hand didn’t wander, as Misty’s fixed it in place. 

Misty hitched a tight breath, relishing in the new pleasure. She squeezed Cordelia’s wrist. Her eyes screwed shut, and Cordelia pecked light kisses around the corner of her mouth until she relaxed into the embrace. Quiet grunts, no louder than the snoring of an old dog, rose from Misty’s throat as Cordelia traced her clitoris in circles, around and around, lazy in her gestures. 

Open-mouthed, Misty panted. “Delia,” she breathed, voice barely a whisper, and Cordelia bumped their noses up against one another. She rubbed faster when Misty’s clitoris twitched beneath her touch. “Mm…” Misty wrapped a lazy arm around Cordelia, but it cinched against her skin. Short fingernails dug into her back. They pinched without scratching. “Ah—” Her mouth pressed into the crook of Cordelia’s neck, muffling the sound. She lifted her right leg higher, catching it on Cordelia’s hip. The muscles in her thighs upheaved. Her lower body bucked into Cordelia’s touch, the single digit pressing with more firmness against her clitoris. She bit Cordelia’s neck, harder now than before. Cordelia leaned her head away and worked harder, faster against the budding clitoris. 

The nails sank in deeper. Misty’s back arched. She keened a sound into the auricle of Cordelia’s ear as the waves of pleasure crested over her and washed back over her, ripples through a pond. Her tense, lean muscles unwound on the mattress. She released her fingernails from Cordelia’s back and lifted her face from the crook of her nec. Cordelia kissed her again, sweetly this time, cupping her cheek in her hand. “Thank you,” Misty whispered. 

“Don’t thank me.” Tucking a lock of frizzy hair behind Misty’s ear, Cordelia smiled at her. “Get some rest, Misty.” 

Drowsing on Cordelia’s shoulder, Misty nodded and shifted her body. She smoothed her hand down Cordelia’s back. “Goodnight, Delia.” 

Curling up beside her on their sweat-dampened sheets, Cordelia closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep beside her. 

…

By the time Cordelia opened her eyes, the morning sunlight drifted in through the window. Sweaty blonde hair had strung into her mouth. “Mm…” She pawed the thick curls out of her mouth, peering over at Misty, whose body curled against hers. Drool trickled out of the corner of her mouth. Cordelia smiled.  _ She’s so beautiful. _ With one tender hand, she brushed the locks back behind Misty’s ear. Misty snorted, answering her touch, but she didn’t stir from her sleep. 

Cordelia rolled over onto her back.  _ I should check on the baby. _ She gazed up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to get up.  _ I didn’t hear Misty get up at all last night. _ She must’ve been pretty exhausted to have slept through Antoinette crying. But the Chordettes had stopped playing—that was a good sign.  _ We consummated our relationship to the Chordettes. _ Her cheeks flushed at the thought. 

A shadow passed by on the wall. Cordelia turned her head. There, midair, floated Antoinette—suspended by nothing but her own four limbs outstretched, the baby hovered a few feet above the floor. “Oh my god,” Cordelia whispered. Antoinette smiled at herself, rolling over in the air. “Oh my god! Misty! Misty, wake up, wake up!” 

Rolling over, she grabbed Misty by the shoulder and shook her vigorously. “Hm—what? What the hell, I just got to sleep—”

“ _ She’s floating! _ ” 

“Who’s—What—” Misty blinked blearily a few times, narrow eyes trying to break through the light to focus on Cordelia. “What the hell are you talking about?” Cordelia held out an arm, gesturing and sputtering at the body doing a somersault in the air like some trained gymnast. “Holy  _ shit! _ ” Misty scrambled out of bed and reached for Antoinette, but Antoinette sailed out of reach. Misty jumped after her. Naked as the day she was born, Misty played this odd game of chase, jumping at the baby like a volleyball game—and she was  _ losing _ . “Cordelia! Help me!”

“Oh, right, right.” Cordelia pitched the covers off of herself and scrambled to spring after Antoinette. She pulled out a chair and stood up in it. “Shoo her over here, I’ll catch her!” Misty did just that, springing up after Antoinette. Her fingers brushed up against her once, but not enough to grab hold, and the baby fled her touch; she quite seemed to enjoy this game of keepaway she had invented. Cordelia held out her hands and snatched her out of the air. 

Misty offered a hand to help Cordelia step out of the chair. “We caught the little witch.” They exchanged a glance. “Oh, shit,” Misty breathed. “My sister has a magic baby.” 

“You don’t say?” Cordelia arched an eyebrow at her. “What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to pretend nothing happened and give her back and hope for the best.” 

“Misty!” Cordelia repeated, aghast. “We can’t do that! She could put herself in danger! We have a duty to tell her. Magic babies are especially difficult to raise, you know. You can’t seriously think it’s best to let your sister go into this blind?” 

Misty’s jaw twitched; conflict warred upon her face.  _ She’s thinking about it, _ Cordelia realized, somewhat horrified at the suggestion, though she didn’t cut into Misty’s thoughts. “Fine. You’re right. That’s not the responsible thing to do. We should—We should—” She crossed her arms. “We should tell her the truth. But if she tries to dump her on us, I’m out. I’m not doing this again.” As she said  _ this, _ she gesticulated at the baby in Cordelia’s arms. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Cordelia cautioned. “We just have to tell her the truth. You should call her.”

“Oh, no, definitely not.”  _ Why not? _ As if reading the question upon her face, Misty answered, “If I give her a warning over the phone, that gives her the chance to never come back. I’ll tell her when she’s here with the baby strapped in the backseat of her car and not a moment sooner.”

_ Is she serious? _ Cordelia wondered, but Misty’s face didn’t falter. It seemed so. She couldn’t fathom such people, someone irresponsible enough to abandon their child with near strangers… but then again, she also could not fathom someone who would burn their daughter at the stake or who would have their eldest raise their other six children. “Okay. Call her and find out when she’s coming back.” She placed Antoinette in the bassinet, but she promptly floated back out of it. “Hm.” She put a blanket on the floor, placed Antoinette on it, and then flipped the bassinet upside down, trapping her inside of it like a cage. “I’ll, um, I’ll write up some pamphlets.” 

Realizing she’d been trapped, Antoinette promptly screamed. Misty cringed. “Right.” She licked her lips. “It’s time for her to be hungry—Let’s—Let’s put on some clothes, I’ll feed her, and then I’ll call Maude while she has some tummy time later.” 

Once they had both clothed themselves and headed downstairs for breakfast, Misty hastily mixed up formula. Cordelia pulled up her laptop and sat at the kitchen table with a cup of hot tea.  _ How am I supposed to do this? _ She had sent out informational emails to parents of her girls before, but those were for older children. How did she begin to tell someone how to take care of a baby that could float out of its crib? The infant was a flight risk before she could even speak, let alone walk. What was she meant to suggest? Baby restraints? What happened if the Department of Family Services found out someone was tying their baby into their crib to keep it from floating out? The government would call them insane.  _ Probably not the only reason DFS should get involved with Misty’s family, honestly. _ Cordelia would never express that to Misty, no matter how fervently she thought it. She wouldn’t risk hurting Misty’s feelings. 

Her fingers drummed up a title:  _ Caring for a Magical Child. _ What could she add to that?  _ Clipart, definitely clipart. _ Clipart would make the baby floating out of her crib much easier to deal with. 

With this in mind, Cordelia added a lot of cutesy clipart and made the fonts bright and readable. She added snippets of information in short bullet points, hoping that made it less overwhelming. She kept it only four panels, easily foldable. “Hey, Queenie, if someone gave you this about your kid, would you panic?” 

Queenie approached behind her and tilted her head where she ate an unwrapped granola bar. “What’s going on with the baby?”

“Just read it, please.” 

“If Misty talked you into keeping it, we’re all going to leave.”

Misty laughed from the counter where she was feeding Antoinette. “If this baby stays in this house, I’m moving back out to the swamp.” Antoinette made uneven sucking sounds at the bottle in her mouth. “She started floating out of the bassinet overnight.” 

Queenie shrugged. “If you told me my baby was floating out of the bassinet, yeah, I’d freak out. What are your solutions?”

“They’re  _ in the pamphlet, _ ” Cordelia repeated, and this time Queenie muttered something under her breath,  _ Pushy, pushy, _ but she accepted the laptop and scrolled through the document, browsing the images and the bullet points Cordelia had provided for the reader. “So? What do you think? Is she going to freak out?”

“Nah. I mean, I don’t know her, but you made it sound cute.” Queenie took a bite off of the granola bar. “You didn’t exactly tell her how to keep the baby from floating out of the bassinet, though. Are you planning on tying the baby up?”

Misty shook her head. “Safety hazard.”

Cordelia sighed. “She’s right. Big choking hazard.” She didn’t  _ need _ to know a lot about babies to know that. She licked her lips. “I don’t know. I guess do what we did earlier, and put her down to sleep on the floor and flip the Pack ‘N Play upside down on top of her?” 

Arching an incredulous eyebrow, Queenie gazed back at her skeptically. “That sounds like a baby cage. I don’t think that’s something I’d tell the parents of a newborn.” 

“Plus, that’s also a safety hazard,” Misty cut in. “Lying her down on a blanket for sleep can get the blanket stuck on her face once she’s a little more mobile. Lots of babies have suffocated that way.”

Madison entered the room with an empty yogurt container. She threw it out in the trash. A sharp snort punctuated Misty’s words. “Do you really think your sister is concerned about safety? She dumped her baby on you with no warning and has basically gone no-contact since. She doesn’t seem like the pinnacle of responsibility.” 

Misty’s jaw flexed. “That doesn’t give us the right to make unsafe recommendations.” Madison moved her hand like a mouth as Misty talked. Antoinette whimpered. “Look, Maddie, just leave us the hell alone, please?” 

It was a dove offering an olive branch. Naturally, Madison being Madison, it was rejected. “But annoying you is so much more fun, swampy.” She stopped behind Cordelia. “Anyway, tying the baby up and putting it in a cage are both dumb ideas.” 

“What exactly would you suggest?” 

“Build a bassinet with a lid.” Cordelia, Queenie, and Misty all frowned, but none of them stopped her; they were intrigued. Madison realized she had caught their attention. “See…” She went to the kitchen cabinet and pulled out one of the largest tubs of tupperware. She popped the lid off of it. “The Pack ‘N Play already has mesh siding, so you could make one like that, but make the rimming up top plastic and rounded so a lid will snap on like a tupperware container.” She demonstrated. “Make the lid breathable, too. Poke holes in it or make it additional mesh with the plastic rimming. It can snap in place just like a tote, but for babies.” Madison snapped the lid back into place and put the tupperware back in the cabinet. “Your sister can’t be the only one having this problem. Even regular babies climb out of cribs once they’re big enough. There’s a market for this.” 

Misty blinked through narrowed eyes. “I wanna be pissed at you, but I think you actually just solved our problem.” 

Madison shrugged. “Damn straight.” She leaned against the countertop. “So when are you getting rid of that thing?” 

“I’m going to call Maude today.”

“Cool. Can I have your room when you move in with Cordelia?” 

“I—er—” Cordelia raised her eyebrows, exchanging a panicked glance with Misty, whose confusion mirrored upon her face. “I—um—I don’t know?”

Rolling her eyes, Madison cocked out a hip. “You didn’t honestly believe you could keep it a secret? You’ve both got hickeys.” Queenie nodded in agreement, giving them both a mild look. “You’re welcome. I want a cut of the profits from your lid cribs. And your room. It has a better view than mine.” Madison left the room, and Queenie sneaked out after her. 

Misty tilted her head. “Lid cribs, huh.” Cordelia nodded slowly. “I didn’t notice the hickeys.”

“I did,” Cordelia admitted. “I just didn’t think anyone else would.” 

“Ah.” Misty put the baby’s empty bottle on the kitchen table and lifted Antoinette onto her shoulder to pat out the burps. “Well… I guess they were going to find out eventually. And we already have the noise-cancelling spell, so it’s not like they’re going to be making fun of us  _ more _ than usual, you know.” Antoinette belched. “Right?” Misty asked, and for the first time, Cordelia heard self-doubt in her voice. 

Until this moment, Misty had been filled with confidence and reassurance for Cordelia, who had all the questions—questions about the baby, about her care, about herself, about her self worth, about Misty, about her family, about her relationship with the coven, about her own importance, about her relationship with Misty, about all of her failures… She had had so many questions she thought she would never have answered, thought no one ever  _ could _ answer, and Misty was there, boosting her, comforting her, encouraging her for every step of the way. The doubts which had plagued Cordelia her whole life had finally quieted when Misty was at her side. 

But now Misty, the zenith of security, needed Cordelia’s support. 

“Right.” Cordelia reached her hand across the table to give Misty’s a firm squeeze. She smiled. A relieved smile answered her in response. 

…

The next day, Misty finished packing up the diaper bag. “Maude’s going to be here any minute.” The Pack ‘N Play was collapsed and ready to go with the tote lid they had fashioned for it, poking large holes in it and attaching clips to the bars to snap it into place when in use. Misty rocked the baby in her carseat where she rested, arms open and eyes attentive. “Delia?” 

“I’m coming.” Cordelia had the pamphlet ready on glossy paper, complete with a tutorial of how to attach the lid with pictures. Outside, a car pulled up in front of the house and parked. From the driver’s door, a woman popped out—a woman with curly blonde hair glimmering in the sunlight. 

At first glance, Cordelia would have thought it was Misty.

She approached the home and headed up the front steps, knocking twice. Cordelia went to the front door while Misty picked up the carseat and the diaper bag. “Hi,” she greeted the young woman, who wore large horn-rimmed glasses. The woman gave a somewhat confused smile at the sight of her, but then Misty flanked her at the door. 

Maude brightened at the sight of her sister. “Misty! How is she?” Misty eagerly passed her the carseat, and with it, Cordelia watched the tension visibly bleed from Misty’s shoulders, relieving her of her duty. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. I really appreciate it.” She gave a second glance to Cordelia. “Er—hi, I’m Maude.”

Misty blinked, as if she suddenly remembered what they were doing here. “Right—this is Cordelia. She’s the Supreme witch of our coven. We, uh, we thought maybe we could give you a little information about, um, about some of the things—well, I mean, some of Antoinette’s unique, um,  _ features. _ ” 

Raising her eyebrows, Maude nodded slowly. “Oh… I guess she probably floated out of the crib for y’all, too.” 

They both stared. “She’s done that  _ before _ ?” Misty asked.

“Oh, yeah, definitely. She did it for the first time at the hospital. Freaked the nurse the hell out, ‘cause she busted out of her monitor and it read her as dead.” 

Misty exchanged a glance with Cordelia. “And you didn’t think to  _ tell me? _ ” 

Maude shrugged. “I mean, it’s kinda your fault, since you’ve got…” She gestured vaguely at Misty’s person. “… all this going on. I figured you’d know how to handle it if she happened to do something. Kinda was hoping you’d know how to fix it, but if not, no big deal.” She shrugged it off again. 

Misty ground her teeth. “Magic isn’t something to be  _ fixed _ .”

“Oh,  _ pauvre bête _ , don’t take it the wrong way—”

“Don’t  _ pauvre bête  _ me, Maude! Are you cracked? She could’ve gotten hurt.  _ C’est fou! _ ”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t have fixed her, though.” Maude smiled. Misty’s face twitched with mingled fury and affection; it was clear she had a hard time  _ staying  _ mad at Maude, as much as this irritated her. “ _ Mo chagren, _ alright?  _ De rien. _ ” Cordelia glanced sideways at Misty, wondering if she was doomed to understand nothing in this somewhat bilingual conversation. 

Misty crossed her arms and sighed. “Fine. I mean, you’re a  _ couillon, _ but fine.” 

Reaching out, Maude touched her arm. “Relax, Misty. I’m fine. Antoinette’s fine. You’ve got to stop being the mother hen, alright? I’m the mom now.” Her phone buzzed. She checked it. “Look, I’ve got to go. That’s my boyfriend. We’re having dinner with his mom tonight.” 

Placing her hands on her hips, Misty tilted her head back. “You haven’t told me anything. How did things go?” 

“Oh, they went great! Mama’s off her coke finally, and Daddy gave me a thousand dollars to put in Antoinette’s college fund. Mathilde is working on throwing me the baby shower I didn’t get locally.” 

Silence happened after her words, and then they both burst out laughing. “You’re super disowned, aren’t you?” 

“I’m  _ so _ disowned. But we all knew how that was gonna go.” She adjusted her glasses. “Good news is Marcelie is out. Living with Mitchell now. So it’s just Mama and Daddy to suffer in their loneliness. What they deserve, really. And I’m still the only one who’s gotten pregnant!” 

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.” 

Antoinette stirred in the car seat, whimpering. “I’m going to have to get this one strapped in, I think.” She glanced back up to Misty. “Look, I—I told the others not to mess with you. I told them to do it on your terms. So I’ve got their phone numbers if you want them, but if you don’t, I think they’d understand that, too.” 

Cordelia’s heart softened at the sight. She reached for Misty’s hand and gave it a silent squeeze. Misty squeezed hers in return. “I appreciate that. I—I’ll think about it.” 

Maude went for an awkward, one-armed hug. “I’ll call you when I’m home, alright?  _ Mo laime toi. _ ” 

“ _ Mo laime toi. _ ” 

As Antoinette mumbled from her car seat, Maude picked it up and waved her tiny hand. “Say bye-bye,  _ Grandmere! _ ”

Blue eyes fluttered wide. “Did you just call me  _ Grandmere? _ What the hell is wrong with you? How old do you think I am?” 

A purse crossed her lips. “I thought you’d be flattered. It’s not like she’s going to get another  _ grandmere. _ You always did the best job of being a mom, you should get to enjoy being a grandma, too.” Cordelia resisted the urge to chuckle, biting down on the tip of her tongue as a reflexive smile crossed her face. 

“If she wants a  _ grandmere, _ she can find it somewhere else. I’m  _ Tante  _ Misty.” 

Maude rolled her eyes. “Alright, alright.  _ Tante  _ Misty.” She flashed a warm smile at Cordelia. “Thank you for opening your home to Antoinette. And for letting me borrow your girlfriend.” She, too, had seen through whatever guise they thought they had. 

A bit of shame stirred in the pit of Cordelia’s stomach. She suppressed it. She wasn’t ashamed of being with Misty. “You’re very welcome. That’s why we’re here.” 

“Thank you,” Maude said again. She collected her things. “I’ll call you tonight, Misty.” Misty lifted her hand, waving in farewell, and Maude headed back down the sidewalk to her car with all of her things. 

Misty laced her fingers through Cordelia’s. They both watched Maude climb into her car and drive away. Cordelia still clutched the glossy pamphlet in her left hand. “Do you think they’ll be okay?” Misty asked. 

Slowly, Cordelia nodded. “Yeah. I do. I really do.” 


End file.
